


Reach Through Centuries

by Teapot_Sanctuary



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Bad Puns, Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Jesse McCree, But here come the scary tags, But none of these are really dwelled upon, Canon-Typical Violence, Cause Blizzard is too STINGY!, Cryptids, Deadlock Gang, Dragon Hanzo Shimada, Eventual Fluff, Fantasy, Human Trafficking, Just a fun mash up of local lore and tropes, Just to fill in Blackwatch, Mild Gore, Minor Ana Amari/Reinhardt Wilhelm, Minor Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Missing Limbs, Multi, My First Fanfic, Past Torture, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Science Fiction, Skinwalker Jesse McCree, Some OC's Yall, dad jokes, it's gonna be a long one, please bear with me, thanks for reading!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2019-11-01 22:41:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 89,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17876189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teapot_Sanctuary/pseuds/Teapot_Sanctuary
Summary: Two beings have fallen in time and space. Can they re-learn how to live in a changing world?





	1. Taiko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo awakes to change.

Thum-thump-thum, Thum-thump-thum-tcha –

     Taiko thrumming in stark lantern light, white glares glancing off metal fasteners into the gathering.

Thum-thump-Thum, Thum-thump-Thum-Tcha, Thum-thump-Thum-Tcha –

     The throng pressed tighter, hotter. Bony limbs flailed thoughtlessly.

THum-Thump-Thum- **TCHA** , THum-Thump-Thum- **TCHA** , THum-Thump-Thum- **TCHA** –

     Louder, roaring, the drums fill the body, replace the heartbeat with their own.

**THUM-THUMP-THUM-THUMP-THUM-THUMP-THUM-THCA-THCAK –**

      The beat is frantic, ensnaring. The crowd presses further, surging and writhing without rhythm. The vicious kumi-daiko envelops him, splitting the ears and soul, and –

Hanzo tears his eyes open, cool sweat dripping from his flaring nostrils as he sucks in air as fast as his lungs can manage. The air seems far too slow. Perhaps it is just the effects of the night terror. Or it could be lung damage. _I hope it is the former_. He doesn’t put much weight behind his hope as he waits for the taiko to fade.

They do not.

_Instead, are they? Surely not. Are they . . . growing louder? I must be mishearing._

His ears flick forward as he leans towards the entrance of his “fine guest accommodations”, as his captors , or “his oh-so-benevolent caretakers”, had dubbed it. _A stinking hole is what it is_. He lets out a small snort into the infernally hot chamber as he strains his limited hearing. The jagged walls must be absorbing the sound. Yet another reason to despise them. Beyond the insulating properties of their “lovely natural finish”, they also keep him from relaxing. He had learned that the hard way after tearing open his scarring back while trying to relieve his aching spine. A growl escapes him as he glares for what must be the thousandth time at the one promisingly smooth section of wall. It sits there, just out of the range of his restraints. _Taunting me, of course._

His mind’s wandering is cut through once again by the sounds of . . . _No. It is not drums, it is  . . . footbeats?_ Desperately, he drags himself forward in an attempt to gather the noises. It strains against his collar and cuffs, they burn and dig deeper into his raw neck and wrists. Sparks of pure hot-red agony shoot through his nerves. It is not the first time. 

_Curse that damned woman and her **particularly** hellish brand of binding incantations! Perhaps when I am free I shall bind her in some cursed hot hell-hole. Then we shall see how she enjoys being cracked apart every time she breathes._

_If you are_   _ever free._

Hanzo strains a moment longer before once again escaping from the pain. If he is not careful now, his bindings could easily push him into unconsciousness. They seem even stronger than usual.

 _She must know that I can hear them_. _It would not be ideal for me to lose consciousness as an unknown party is entering the_   . . . Base? Cavern? Fortress? He's not entirely certain. He had little knowledge of his surroundings as his bindings limit him so greatly. They squash him down, forcing him into his fragile human form, incapable of even summoning his spirits. He had only been released when he was drugged into an unconscious stupor. Even then, he apparently caused the gang enough trouble for them to use restraints.

He strains his ears once more, flicking them forward, glad that his sensitive hearing is still relatively functional. He still cannot determine the number and nature of the forces. _If I could be rid of these barriers, I would know._ _If I could just loosen them enough to extend my hearing, at least  I could determine if they are here to fight or aid. If they do fight and claim victory_ _and wish to keep me I cannot leave so easily. Now think! If they exploit me, just as this “ fine organization” is doing, what is my plan?  Even if they are not your allies, they may still prove to be a means of escape._ _Or perhaps they **are** merely allies of my captors . . ._

**VAA-BOOOOOOMMM!!**

The walls tremble as Hanzo haphazardly leans out of the way of a stalactite-turned-projectile. It seems to take all of his energy.

 _Enemies then_. Perhaps if he has any luck, the enemy of his enemy would be his ally, after all. Perhaps he will not need to fight to escape.

_“You have never been lucky in your life. Oooor got lucky for that matter~”_

Whispers of both the sounds of ghosts and battle. _No, I have no luck now either. I must plan._ He has no use of his talons and teeth, no storms to aid him. He can not even so much as summon his bow. 

_It has been a while since I last attempted. Perhaps -_

Sharp surges of blinding pain race up his bindings and scrape down his nerves. His thoughts immediately sever. It forces him to curl inward, pinning him against the filthy sand. His ears prick involuntarily as the tell-tale crunch of heeled boots approaches. Except this time the pace sounds frantic. His bindings grow tighter. More searing sparks grate through his spine, shoot straight to his mind and tear into his pain receptors like a pack of ravenous wolves.

  _Oh. Of course she is coming to torment me now. I hope she did not bring Bob._

The wolves rend through his senses. He is tipping into a spinning, groundless void. Ah. Apparently he did not need to concern himself with Bob. This was far worse. He can hardly hear the familiar boot heels of his head captor now. Instead, howling has filled the entirety of his senses.

_Is it my own?_

 Percussive explosions. Footbeats and riffles.  A rhythmless beat, frantic.

_The taiko again? No, no, there are no taiko! Do not fade!_

The wolves grate against his eyes and claw at his skin, a swarm of red heat and hatred and relentless sound. 

_Why are there taiko here?_

The wolves tear farther, crush his thoughts beneath their screams.

There is only the faint sound of the kumi-daiko behind them now. Perhaps the drummers were trying to pull him from his cave. He, a sulking, broken Amaterasu, a sight to behold. He begins to fade, reaching towards the thunderous drums. He could certainly use the sake within.

His vision is swimming, darkness creeping into the edges. The red eyed wolf woman is before him now. Her wolves howl. He howls.

A sharp beat from the taiko, and the wolves retreat. A new figure looms. 

_A dark haloed drummer, come to drag me from my cave._

The world spins one last time as he sinks below the surface of his mind.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys! I hope you like this chapter! It's my first time attempting to write a fic, and really my first attempt at writing, so please bear with me! I just need more fantasy Au's in my life. I've already read all of Crown of Horns, dove deep into a couple of other fics, and Fool's Gold and Of Men and Monsters cannot seem to update fast enough for me. Thus, my (probably poor) attempt at a fantasy/cryptid AU! All constructive criticism is welcome, and thanks for reading!  
> Edit:  
> I was bored yesterday, and I wanted to do an illustration for this real quick. thanks! :)  
> [](https://imgur.com/TIYGvJq)  
> https://imgur.com/TIYGvJq


	2. Old haunts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse returns to his old haunting grounds, but is haunted himself.

Jesse couldn’t remember the last time he’d had these kind of nerves heading into a mission. Maybe that one hit in Hong Kong? Naw, that had been a different sort of nerves. He’d been jittery as all hell, but who wouldn’t be before facing off against a swarm of hive-minded vampiric omnics? For that matter, they had more folks diving into this mission than they'd had then. _Still, I’d rather face that horde n’ this._ His face must’ve been letting slip more than he thought, as he looks up to find himself face to face with Reyes. Worse, he was giving him an almost sympathetic look.

“You holding in there, hijo?”

Hoo boy, he must really look as tense as he felt if Gabe was pulling out the father role. He pushed his hat back a smidge and gave what he hoped was an easygoing grin.

“Yessir bossman. Aint a care in the world in this here cabeza.” Gabe didn’t buy his nonchalance by that look. Not that he’d really expected him too. After all, he was one smart cookie. Fred snorted off to the side. Damn, he must really be off if _Fred_ was picking up on his nerves. Not that Fred wasn’t smart in his own way.

Gabe slipped into a crouch, looking directly at him. Jesse was still taken aback a bit by the gesture every time. Before Blackwatch, he couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked him straight in the eyes once on purpose.

“Jesse, you’re shaking like a leaf. You still think you can handle this? I don’t expect you to hit the dirt if you can’t keep it together, hijo.”

He’d had no idea he was shaking. If it were any other mission, he’dve agreed with Gabe and sat it out. But then again, what other mission would have cut into him like this?

“Naw Gabe, I can keep’t together alright. The leadin up’s just really getting ta me right now’s all. Once my boots hit the dirt I’ll be right as rain. You can bet on it!”

Fred perks up, and scoots to join in the banter. “How much are we betting? Gabe already owes me aboot twenty bucks for that last trick ya pulled oot in Norwey.”

Gabes eyes rolled so hard that even the angstiest middle schoolers would accept him as cool.

“For that last time Fred, he only got six in that pull! You owe me money on that one, not the other way round cabrón!”

“Noooo way Gabe! He took oot seven of them at once, I swear!”

“Do you ever stop and listen to yourself, Fred?! I don't know how many times I've told you! Jesse may be able to do a lot of things, but his gun has only got _six_ _fucking bullets_ in it! _Just six_.He CANNOT shoot more than six separate targets in one go!”

Jesse chuckles before joining in.

"Whats ta say that I aint got a coupl'a bullets up my sleeve fer just such an occasion? After all, ya keep sayin' that's where my cards are every time I beat ya!" 

Reyes shoots him a scathing look before sighing heavily and changing the subject. Convenient. 

“Seriously Jessito, can you get a grip on it?”

“I absolutely can Gabe. It’s a fact.”

“Alright. Just make sure to keep your prattle up on comes. If you aren’t talking, then I assume you aren’t right.”

“If he’s not talking, he’s not breathing eh?”

Another prodigious eye-roll.

“Shut your trap pendejo, and keep yours open Jesse. If you’re up to it, we could really use your directions on this one.”

He nods with a tip of his hat and a half sincere smile.

“Gotchya Gabe.”

“Good.” Gabe cocked his head, his sharp ears picking up on Hunter’s chatter from the cockpit, no doubt. He stands rapidly and barks into his com and to the cabin at large.

“All right everyone, we’re officially starting the drop, so buckle up. Once we’re down there, our mission is to capture, more or less intact, any and everyone we find. That includes a potentially large number of trafficking victims, so stay on your toes and don’t kill civies. I’ve been informed we may be up against some particularly nasty sons of bitches. Namely, as you should all know from your brief –“ the twins coughed and suddenly became very interested in their weapons instead of eye contact with Gabe –“ Deadlock is a gang comprised almost entirely of skin walkers. As such, try to avoid eye contact and be prepared to fight literally anything, including yourself. We’re five minutes out, so make your last checks and get ready for boots on the ground.”

Another voice crackle through the coms.

“Oi hear those boots may have more than the usual allotment of spurs, so be sure you’re shooting the right cowboys. Oi don’t want to bother healing up our own more than Oi already do.”

"Here Here!" Hunter chimed in on the coms.

He snorts as the cabin breaks into chuckles and a few laughs. They could all use the comedic relief before landing it seems. He sets his com to the main channel.

“Yer such a charmer, Moira, Hunter. Nice ta know I have such _supportive_ support.”

“Anytime Jesse. Except noon of course. You’re so insufferable then.”

More laughter. Jesse smiled and leaned back into his seat, enjoying the momentary relief of stress. He wasn’t too keen on dropping himself right back into an organization that had once been both home and hell to him, especially with the intent of shooting up the place.He needed to do this though. If reports were true, and he still somewhat hoped against hope that they weren’t, Deadlock had really dove deep into peddling people after he’d “taken his leave” so to speak. Not that it really surprised him too much when he’d heard. After all, he’d been introduced to the gang the same way. He just happened to have “the gifts” to be one of them. Still, they’d really been more of the armed robbery sort than kidnappers. He’d even said as much to Gabe when he started planning this mission.

_“It just don’t quite seem right, ya know? I mean, I aint got any idea what would go’n make Ashe decide she needed to deal with cargo that could fight back n’ all.’_

_“I have no idea why they’ve started doing this either Jesse. I was hoping **you** might be able to shed some light on why, considering your position.”_

_“Yeah, wish I could do, but it just don’t seem ta fit em’. We liked a fairly easy payout. Only reason we went on that train heist ya’ll picked me up from was fer the big cash. Too much money n’ goods ta pass that one up, even if it was a bit much fer us.”_

Gabe had only responded with one of his trademark “mms” and a furrowed brow. Jesse had left with the unsettling feeling that they were wading into dark unknown waters. That feeling had not left him, and crept up again as he felt the bottom of the carrier hit ground.

The team immediately sprung into well-synchronized motion. Gabe’s carrier held almost all of his personal strike team, with the exception of Moira. She was tasked with babysitti – er, “commanding” the younger, less experienced agents. He did not envy her in the slightest. As they moved out of the stealth carrier, Jesse found himself having a surreal moment. Here he was in his old backyard, helping to lead his former boogeyman through the intricate paths and dusty caverns that he had once called home, and that still haunted his nightmares. The old route 66 sign greets him like a familiar friend, and the smell of the worst instant coffee imaginable rises to his nostrils. He wasn't sure if the smell was real or just a distant memory brought to his nose through the tangle of his subconscious. The wrecked train had been fairly new when he had "left", and it was odd to see it rusting in front of the ancient diner. It looked downright apocalyptic. 

He was shaken out of his mental catharsis with the sound of the pulse rifles.

“Shit, Moira, I thought you had those kids over there in line! The hell are they shooting at?!” Gabe hissed into his com. After some angry sounding Gaelic, Moira replied.

“The _children_ were shooting at a _truly terrifying tumbleweed_ , commander.”

“Ay, Dios mio. They’d better pray they haven’t broken our cover.

“Aint no way, jefe. Everything echoes in this canyon.” Jesse grimaced as he said it. Everything echoed through the cavern. You could never quite un-hear it. The premature shooting was going to make their approach a lot harder.

“Alright then, I suppose we’d better get our asses in there fast then. **_MOVE IN, ALL UNITS MOVE IN_**.”

Jesse and the rest of his squad had been moving before Gabe spoke, following the rough layout that he had provided. He knew it wasn’t perfect. Hell, they may’ve restructured the whole base since he was here last. Diving into the first tunnel, he got instant relief from that fear. They hadn’t changed a single thing, ‘cept there seemed to be even more dust n’ cobwebs than before.  Ashe had always been too stubborn to make changes, even if it meant better security. She knew how she liked things, and she kept it that way. Gabe tread beside him now, quieter than a bsrn owl in a snowstorm. Jesse moved on automatic, guiding them to the little-used side entrance  of the main cavern.

“Alrighty y’all. Looks like they aint changed a thing since I been here. Ya findin trouble at the gates Moira?”

“Beyond the incompetence of moi own squad, no. They continue to shoot at any and everything. Apparently, they assume that skinwalkers can take the appearance of buildings and garbage. Oi have no fear that our adversaries should be adequately distracted.”

“Hope but don’t expect. Everyone stay on your toes, especially you idiotas.” Gabe grumbles that last quip in the direction of the twins. Nate and Nick, for their part, are quick to grin in feigned innocence, which earns them another eye roll. If this operation doesn’t pan out well, Jesse’s sure it’ll earn them more than that. It wouldn’t be the first time. If this operation goes to crap, then he guesses they won't have to worry 'bout it. 

His thoughts are cut short by a sound that he’s far more used to echoing in his memories than in his reality. Heeled boots with knife sharp steel toes and the click of bullets loading into a mean short shotgun. 

“Heads up, ‘s Ashe fer sure.”

He didn’t need to check for confirmation as the team rounded the corner to the main corridor. Sure enough, Ashe was charging towards the door with Bob and a few other familiar faces. Jesse speeds up, and the team fans out, trailing after her.

_‘Cept I aint behind ya tryin' ta watch yer back this time._

Despite all of the ruckus up front, Ashe spins around to face them. She couldn’t have heard them over it.

“Shit! I think she felt me!”

“Hard to say which one of us she picked up on, eh?” Fred noted as he threw out a barrier just before they got hit by one of Ashe’s nasty enchanted fire bombs. The red hot lights swarmed over the barrier without success.

_I aint missed those, that’s fer sure_

Nick joins in over the bellow of his monstrous homebrew bazooka “Antler-brains has got a point Jess, we’re sure to smell something terrible!”

“Speak for your damned self.” Gabe smirks as he says it, taking out the legs of two gas-masked cronies. A poor fashion choice when it came to peripheral vision.

Jesse knows the team’s trying to keep him level right now, but Ashe’s eye’s have been locked on his this entire time. He hasn’t wavered either. Eye contact hasn’t kept either of them from hitting their marks.

**“WHAT IN THE SAM HILL ARE YOU DOIN HERE McCREE?!”**

“What’s it look like I’m doin’ here Ashe? Stopping by for sweet tea and gossip?” The words come easy, his mouth drawling away while his hand draws and fires. He rolls to the side as Fred backpedals to reload his barrier. He fans the hammer as soon as he pops up. His reports echo, a cacophony of beats in quick succession. It's comforting in a way.  

“STOP YER BULLSHITTIN’ McCREE! I AINT MISSED YER FLAPPIN TRAP OR YER UGLY MUG! ACTUALLY, ON SECOND THOUGHT KEEP IT UP YA FUCKIN TRAITOR! I’M GONNA ENJOY HEARING THAT VOICE O’ YERS DIE ONCE AN’ FER ALL1"

Guess she’d heard about his little side switcheroo before this after all huh? As much as he didn’t want to acknowledge it, it stung a little to hear the words spoken so candidly from her. She always could be mean as a snake, but he was seldom on the receiving end of the venom. 

_Not that we were really on the best of terms before, I reckon . ._

He catches Gabe repositioning himself out of the corner of his eye and realigns for “the ol’ shoot the boot”, or “ _maneuver 37_ ” as Gabe adamantly called it. His name’s better.

Fred pops up a fresh barrier as Nate and Nick click their weapons together into anti-aircraft mode. The barrier and firepower couldn't have come a moment sooner, as Ashe hollers for Bob to “do somethin’”. Jesse rolls in behind Ashe and fan’s the hammers at her legs while Gabe reappears behind him to death blossom, taking out the cannon fodder and leaving the “intel” intact. It worked every time. Well, almost. There was just one lil’ ol’ problem. Ashe was smarter than the average joe, and thought enough to switch skins. 

“Damnit! She went osprey on me!”

“Puta Madre! Go after her, I’m on your six!”

Jesse stuck to the ground, watching where she flew. Straight down the middle, away from the gates. She dove into the living quarters, wide wings sweeping down narrow halls with practiced accuracy. They used to race this course together, wings beating inches from one another. He was close behind her now, but puzzled about where she could be heading when she took an unexpected left. Only other thing back here was the tangle of natural passages and small alcoves they had used for the occasional ransom. He'd spent his fair share of time in one of those tiny spaces, and he knew they didn't keep arms back there. It was too dusty and warm. The last exit in these tunnels to the mesa had collapsed before he left, and they never had been able to open it back up.

“Stick close Gabe, this might get tight!”

Ashe dodges ahead through the narrow quarters, flying faster than most any human could match. Jesse keeps pace, even gaining on her. Maybe all those suicide laps he'd been doing lately had been some use. Not that he’d tell Gabe that.

Suddenly he loses her. There are three routes, he knows. The widest one, the foxhole, and the impassible river.  

“Shit. I lost her jefe.”

Gabe swirled into form beside him, scowling.

“Which path do you think she went down?”

“Well, there’s only one you could fit through. Dunno if she know’s that, so maybe she - ”

 

**_hhhHHHRRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWLLLLLLlllll_ **

 

The scream tears through them, rebounding down the passageways and through the small halls. It decidedly came from the wide route. They nod briefly before they spring down the hall. Jesse's stomach falls as he pushes himself faster. In case of an emergency, Ashe had always made it clear that they were to destroy their greatest liabilities. Now that she was trading in lives . . .

He runs faster still. The screaming swells, louder and more pained. Still alive.

He pushes past bends, jumps stalagmites and ducks stalactites. The howls begin to break apart.

He feels himself begin to move on all fours, stooping and contorting. He has to get there before she does.

Just as the cries begin to die, he locks onto her, framed by the red glow of her ghostly wolves. They loom over the form of someone pinned to the ground, a dark liquid pooling around them.

_Shit. Aint another option._

He freezes, aims, breathes and –

**BANG!**

The report from his pistol bounces down the corridor as Ashe crumples in front of her captive. Jessie watches as the red wolves flicker out around the room, running up towards the ceiling and sending a shiver down his spine. He mindlessly rubbed his left shoulder.

His attention turns to the form on the ground. The beautiful long black hair is what strikes him first. It glistens in the dissipating glow of the binding spells. It’s not clean, he realizes, but bloody. The  . . . man, he decides, is bleeding from his ears, neck, wrists and –

_Fuck. Aint got no legs, no wonder he seems short. The hell did you guys get into since I been gone, Ashe?_

The faint and familiar sound of Gabe sweeping down the hall pauses his examination.

“She came ta take out a prisoner.”

“Carajo! But, uh, you took her out, Jesse?” He inclines his head to the crumpled Deadlock leader with a bit of confusion. Jesse grins and tips up his hat.

“Aw, c’mon Gabe, yer insultin’ me! As a true cowboy I would never shoot a fellow gunslinger in the back ta kill. Naw, she’s always got on plenty o’ Kevlar since the natives seem to keep plenty’v ash coated rounds nearby. Just hit her hard enough t’ get her snoozing fer a while.”

“Of course you did. Here I thought we’d have to interrogate a corpse again. After New Orleans, I wasn’t looking forward to it.”

Jesse grimaced and nodded in return. After New Orleans, he didn’t blame him. Their coms crackled to life.

“Oi would like to report that all know targets have been, shall we say, _incapacitated_ at the front gate. With no thanks to you lot.” The last quip seemed to be directed to Moira’s immediate company.

“Incapacitated, O’Deorain?”

“Minorly incapacitated!  . . . mostly . . .”

Gabe groaned.

“Ok, ok. Sweep the remaining base, then meet up with the rest of my team. They should be sweeping up down at the main corridor. Start cataloging our captures. Jesse and I are dealing with a potential civilian casualty, you and Hunter may need to provide emergency aid.”

“Understood, Gabriel.” She sounded almost too excited at the potential of getting her hands on a new patient. It always unnerved Jesse just a bit, but there was no denying that she was a powerful healer.

Gabe knelt down beside Jesse, joining him in his examination. He let out a slow whistle when he saw the gnarly, infected stumps just below the man’s knees. Unusual scarring ran across his exposed back, and two raw, scarred knobs jutted out slightly from his scalp. Long scars, both fresh and old ran up and down his abdomen and disappeared beneath the waist of his pants. All of his wounds looked as if they had been re-opened many times. Jesse shifts the man gently to check for more injuries, and

“Holy shit.” He breathes it out as he marvels at the intricate tattoo. It almost seems to glow as the gold catches the light from his armor. Two beautiful dragons wind lazily up the man’s right arm, one nestling against his collarbone, the other winding over his shoulder. They are not nearly as pretty as the man’s face, however.

_I never knew cheek bones could be sharp enough ta kill a man._

Gabriel shifts to look as well, putting down the man’s wrist.

“His pulse is slow, but he’s alive. What are you looking- Oh. Huh.”

“I aint seen tats like these before. Whaddya make of them?”

“I haven’t seen tattoos like these in a centuries myself. They’ve got an older look to them, but there’s no mistaking them. They’re yakuza.”

“Really? I mean, I’ve seen Yakuza tats before, but they’ve always been . . .”

“Less than tasteful?”

“Yeah, s’pose ya could put it that way.”

“Hmm. Well, we’d better get him out of here. You stay here and keep an eye on him and Ashe. I’ll get O’ Deorain.”

“ You got it bossman.”

Jesse doesn’t turn his head to see Gabe ghost down the hallway. No, his eyes are glued to the man in front of him. He swore one of those dragons snarled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter! I hope you guys are still enjoying. I don't know when updates are going to come down the line. I have the next chapter mostly finished, and have started the fourth chapter, but I'd like to refine them a bit more. Thanks for reading!  
> Edit:  
> I went ahead and did an illustration for this chapter as well. They're good practice for digital painting. (That's what I'm telling myself at least, lol.)  
> [](https://imgur.com/mM90Pgs)  
> https://imgur.com/mM90Pgs


	3. Operating Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo just can't seem to wake up in a good place.

The sweet smell of cherry blossoms and red bean paste linger in the back of his throat, and the chattering of branches and grass dancing in the cool night breeze graze gently against his consciousness. The boards beneath him are cool to the touch, flush against the dull ache blooming across his back and shoulders. His training went well today, one arrow after another finding it’s mark. He is quite pleased with how well he was honing his skills while in his human form. His swordsmanship has also been a bit more graceful than usual as well. He had almost managed to match Genji. His brother had far better rapport with his blade than he did his own.

Sometimes he felt as if Genji’s understanding with his blade was even stronger than his own relationship with his brother, but lying here side by side in the fading light pushed the murmurs of doubt to the back of his mind. Perhaps they had grown distant, but the gap between them was not insurmountable by any means. Maybe their differences were simply a sign that they were maturing, becoming less dependent upon one another. However, he wasn’t sure that mature was the best phrase to encompass Genji’s lifestyle as of late.

“What are you thinking, ni-san? I can feel your brain going from here!”

“Hmm hmm. Of course you can Genji. After all, you are a fierce and all-knowing ninja, unconquerable and fleeting.”

Genji’s laugh springs out to joins the melody of the wind and trees. He still has the clear ring of youth in his voice.

“You had better believe I am! I am the greatest ninja to have ever graced this planet!”

“Yes, you are truly a sight to behold, floaring as the breeze through insurmountable numbers of servants to acquire a single forbidden strawberry kit-kat in the middle of the night. Truly a master of stealth, afraid of no adversary. Except the Roomba.”

“Listen, the Roomba is scary as fuck!! That thing is not afraid to smash into your uncovered bony ankles!”

He had a point, and they were both laughing now, the sounds of their voices clashing against the rising wind and the scratching of a million branches. The wind slowly rises, creeping into a roar, the trees screeching in a cacophonous rumble. Genji’s laughter slowly shifts from chirping laughs, to staccato shouts, and then a sharp shriek. The floor grows colder still, and his aching muscles groan in protest as he struggles to draw in breath. Needles of the cold air puncture his lungs, and he becomes aware of something on his face.

He cannot seem to open his eyes. Even so, he sees the the flashing of lights, tinted red by his eyelids. The dull roar of the tress has not stopped, and the crisp but sweet air still punctuates every breath. He is still pressed against something very cold, but it does not have the give of wood. There is a loose band across his middle; it is not the comforting weight of his hakama.

There is also something strapped on his face _._

_Sweet air, face thing, band . . ._

_Genji is . . ._

_I have . . ._

_Genji . . ._

_Operating table_

**_Operating table!_ **

His eyes shoot open as he is jerked awake in a cold sweat for the second time in . .  He is not sure. In a moment though, he _is_ sure that he is no longer in that rancid hole anymore, nor is he lounging with his late baby brother in Hanamura. He is also certain that he is, in fact, on an operating table.

He is absolutely certain that he is not magically bound.

The figures around him are just beginning to notice he is awake. He does not recognize them.

_Should I strike? I cannot go far, I am exhausted, and I do not know their motives. Perhaps they are allies.  If I wait . . . Wait._

A new figure is approaching his position sporting a cowboy hat and . . . spurs?

_Ah. This must be Deadlock. Who else would wear such a thing. Strike, but conserve your energy. Break free!_

He lunges his torso forward, slashing out as his nails grow into something closer to proper talons. His ears stretch flat against his head as he growls and lashes out with sharp canines and venomous fangs. His hair lifts as his electricity surges, crackling in the air around him. His captors recoil for a moment at the display, and he is fueled by their retreat. Broken as he is, it feels good to taste ozone and feel resistance under his talons. They shall fear him now, broken and filthy as he is. If they are lucky, they may even live to regret their actions towards him.

_I hope they have less luck than I do._

His head snaps around and his spirits fade.

_“Did you look without seeing my son? Even a moment of deep observation can destroy an army of those who do not observe, or spare you from being destroyed.”_

His immediate adversaries may have retreated, but he is realizing too late that they are only a small fraction of the troops whom he must face. They are all very well armed. They are also not all human. He has moved with pride and fear, but his energy is already waning. Now he is face to face with a room full of adversaries with unknown abilities and strengths. He cannot even pinpoint any one being, there are so many scents and auras mingling in the tiny space. If only he could have half of the energy and consciousness from his dream.

They will have to suffice. He must do this quickly or succumb to Deadlock once more. He cannot fail now.

_Come little ones, you must strike or fall._

**_“We spare none.”_ **

The wind crackles more fiercely around him as he summons the two ghostly fragments of his own soul. They ripple across his chest and leap from his shoulders, shooting towards the cowboy.

_He must be a great threat._

His other enemies seem disoriented as they scatter, grabbing weapons and ducking behind objects. He hears a smattering of curses in a variety of tongues thrown around the room, with a single Hail Mary recited amongst them in quavering tones. The fear in their voice reflected his own. The cowboy, for his part, seems paralyzed.

_Good. A taste of his own company’s tactics._

Suddenly, a tall figure materializes directly beside him. He has no warning, and he cannot move fast enough to dodge the blow that arcs towards his head. The shotgun cracks down with a metallic thud, ringing trough his skull. He feels the world slipping away again as his last hopes lash out, the answer to his own silent, trembling prayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi ya'll! Sorry this chapter is a bit short. Hanzo's are going to be until he can stay awake for more than ten minutes, lol. I'd like to thank everyone who's commented and left kudos! The show of support has really been unexpected and amazing! To be honest, I was terrified to post this fic, and I'm glad now that I did! I've already got the next two chapters written, I'm just trying to take some time and really get them where I want them! Thanks again, and I hope you can continue to enjoy! :)  
> Edit: I just can't resist guys.  
> [](https://imgur.com/eOrPXQh)  
> https://imgur.com/eOrPXQh


	4. Laugh or cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse is faced with the reality of the situation in Deadlock Gorge.

Despite his fears, the operation is really a success. At least he hopes it is. After Gabe had rushed back to him with Moira and a gurney in tow, Jesse had helped them to navigate out the injured man that Ashe’d been so keen to off. After making sure he was under the care of their med team, Jesse joined Gabe, Moira, and Fred to search more thoroughly through the back tunnels.

They were recovering a lot more folks than they had anticipated. Jesse was mentally reeling slightly at just how many people were squirreled away around the base. They had never had more than two or three people at a time, and they were always for ransom or from rival gangs. That was not the case with the people they were finding now. They were all different sorts, from many walks of life. Almost all of them showed signs of abuse and occasionally, torture. Fortunately, they’d only found one poor soul that hadn’t made it so far.

“D’ya think this is evry’one?” Jesse asked it with a genuine smile. Deadlock may have changed since he was here, but they still weren’t into killing for fun, it seems. One death was one more’n he cares for, but it was much better than what they had been expecting.

“I don’t think so.” Fred grimaced. “I’m smelling a whole lot of something, but it seems . . .”

“Off? I’m picking up on it too, flaco.”

Gabe’s words are soothing in tone, but the meaning doesn’t match. The fact that Jesse can’t single in on what they’re smelling isn’t comforting either. After all, a half-chupacabra and a wendigo could pick up on the smell of blood faster than Moira could spot a new potential experiment.

“Please tell me ya mean “off” like the bug spray.”

Moira snorts, and shoots Jesse a bit of a grin.

“What an interesting hypothesis, Jesse!”

“Well, a fella can hope, right?”

_Ya gotta laugh or cry._

“I wish it was bugspray. I could use some right now, for sure. Feel like there are spiders everywhere down here. Makes it hard to sniff this oot when I feel like I’ve got bugs crawling all oover me, eh?”

Fred laughs, voice rising in a shrill, strained pitch.

“Wait, it’s . . . Yah, it’s this wey.”

 He jerks his head around, finally catching the trail. He starts to head off towards the scent, then abruptly stops. Jesse runs into him, and Moira topples into Jesse, the two nearly bowling over the tiny tank in three-stooges style.

“What’re ya tryin - ”

“Is Hunter here?”

Gabe, Jesse, and Moira groan in harmony.

_Lord help me._

“No, yer sweetheart aint here Fred! Why, ya worried they’ll see ya actually getting us somewhere?”

Fred flushes, a little color coming to his cheeks as he begins stuttering.

“Hunter is not- I mean to say, I doon’t – that is, I - ”

“Que dios mi ayude, Fred! Hunter’s not here to see you, and anyways, they’ve seen you turn before! I don’t see a problem here.”

“Well, ahm, it’s just that I, ahm, well maybe it’s a little that, but also . . .”

“Spit it out, Fredrick! Oi don’t have all day. There are people outside that need my assistance!”

Fred looks down sheepishly, and shoots Jesse a pleading look.

_So it’s this again._

“Aw, c’mon Fred, y’aint eaten again?!”

“ . . . . no . . . .”

Moira prickles, and if Jesse didn’t know better, he’d swear she grows another four feet.

**“YOU HAVEN’T EATEN? HOW LONG, FREDRICK? How many TIMES do Oi have to tell ye to COME TO ME WHEN YOU’RE HUNGRY!?!?”**

Moira continues to scold as Jesse takes a few instinctual steps back, away from the very angry fey. He shoots Gabe a questioning look. Gabe rolls his eyes for the third time that day, and lets a few more seconds tick by before he finally humours Jesse and steps forward between the two.

“All right, all right. Moira, the time and place is not now. The longer you chew the kid out, the longer this takes. And you’re scaring Jesse - ”

Jesse looks out from his position beneath his hat.  

“Am not!”

_Well. Maybe a little scared._

“ Sure, Jesse. And Fred, you know you should be eating between missions. Remember what happened in Volgograd?”

Fred winced a bit. Jesse could never un-remember Volgograd. There are very few things more terrifying than a starving wendigo in a zero-visibility snowstorm, especially when the wendigo has a hard light shield-gun combo for an arm.

Fred’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Yah, I remember. I just doon’t want to . . .  you know?”

Gabe softened just a bit.

“Si, I do know. Now let’s save this conversation for later. Right now, I need you to track.”

Fred nods and begins to contort. Jesse tries not to watch, still sulking beneath the brim of the hat. He always wonders if his shifting looks anything at all like his other teammates. Judging by the crunching of bones going on, he figures his own shifts are not at all like Fred’s. Honestly, that was fine and dandy. He’d seen him shift plenty of times, and it did not look fun.

After a few minutes of following Fred through the maze of passages and hitting several impassible routes, they finally turn a bend in one of the narrower paths. Now Jesse can start to pick up on the odor. It’s rancid, but he can’t quite place what it is. He also can’t figure why it would be coming from back here.

“This can’t be right. Unless they’ve really done some renovation work, which is about as likely as me ditchin’ my hat, this tunnel ends in a big ol’ pit. Couldn’t keep anybody in it, it’s got a whole lot of stalagmites at the bottom, and it’s always waterlogged. Used ta flood if it rained at all.”

Moira perks up, looking back at Jesse with intrigue.

_Uh oh. Wonder what this’ll be about._

“It’s a natural oubliette? How interesting. I’ve had an ongoing hypothesis that it traps not only the body, but the soul as well. Did you ever throw anyone in during your time here, Jesse?”

It was Jesse’s turn to roll his eyes, though the motion didn’t come near to matching Gabe’s “signature move”.

“Jesus, Moira! Y’know not everyone shares your excitement for potential death traps, don’t’chya?”

“It is not moi fault that the general populous doesn’t acknowledge the true entertainment value of sudden death and human mortality!”

“I have to agree on that one, Jesse.”

Jesse splutters and tilts his hat back.

“Gabe! Yer not helpin’!”

Jesse is too busy glaring between a snorting Gabe and Moira to notice Fred has stopped. They all look forward just in time to see Fred turn to the right and refund his lunch. Not a pretty sight, but better, he guesses, than the sight of whatever causes a seasoned member of Blackwatch to hurl.

Suddenly, the smell that had been floating through the passage clicks into place.

_Sceptic tanks. Rot. Wet decaying flesh. Jesus, it is rank!_

Gabe and Moira gently brush past Jesse, craning their necks to look into the pit. Jesse jerks himself forward, reluctantly pacing up behind them, numb limbs moving on autopilot. He peers over the edge.

Jesse empties his stomach beside Fred. He doesn’t want to see it. He can’t see it. His vision begins to smudge around the edges, and his ears begin to hum, damping the already hushed tones of Gabe and Moira. Sure, Deadlock hadn’t been squeaky clean when he’d been here, and they had found more than he bargained already, but they had never come close to this bad. Not bad enough to - 

_A mass grave. A stinkin’ pit full of bodies. How many are there ta fill it? Gotta be at least  . . ._

He stares vacantly at the ground, mind drifting untethered before focusing on a grain of sand that catches the light of his armor and reflects it back to him, blinking as he rocks on his boot heels, spurs jangling rhythmically. The smell and the light is all he can think about now. It surrounds him, pulling him deeper into his mind.

_Fire dances around him, bouncing it’s light off the sand and onto face’s he is slowly getting to know as family. They are surrounding him, dancing. He knows what they want him to do. What he must do._

_The torchlight flickers as they dance in and out, in and out, howling, and contorting in the bath of hellfire. He turns over the weight in his hand, watches the light glint off the familiar barrel._

_It feels foreign now. He can feel his arms shaking, his hair standing on end._

_They push in closer again, the heat of the fire surrounds him, paints it all in blacks and oranges._

_They move in closer, pushing him towards the whimpering figure._

_He lifts up the gun, aims and. . ._

“Jessito! Hijo! Carajo, I knew I should have kept you outside. Jesse, come back to us!”

Jesse is curled in on himself, holding his knees with one hand and his pistol in the other. Gabe is holding him up against his chest. Moira’s hand is on his wrist, and Fred’s mouth is moving. There is no sound to match. The smell of rotting flesh surrounds them, a cowl of death.

 

            ------- oOo -------

 

Jesse emerges from the darker parts of his mind, finding himself ambling outside of Deadlock Headquarters, flanked by a very concerned Nick and Nate. Despite the fact they’re prattling on about the best place to get a calzone in upstate New York, he can tell that they’re worried about him.

“What do you think, Jess? Which is more important, good mozzarella, or a properly seasoned sauce?”

“I’m telling you, it’s all in the sauce! Without that blast of umami and acid, you can’t balance out the fatty, salty mozzarella!”

“And I’m telling _you_ that without a good mozzarella, that sauce is just gonna be unbalanced overkill on your tastebuds, you know?”

Jesse cracks a devious grin.

“Aw, yall got it all kinds a wrong! It’s obviously the quality of the dough that makes’r breaks a calzone!”

The two of them look delighted to hear Jesse at first, but quickly change their sentiment, as looks of unabashed horror cross their faces. They tumble over each other in an outrage about his blasphemous statement that could only be mustered by two Italian-Americans from upstate New York.

Jesse just laughs as they turn various shades of red and angry, and slowly wind their way back towards the carriers. As they approach, the twins suddenly drop their argument.

“Ay Jess, that guy you picked up first is in our carrier for the trip. He’s pretty bad off.”

_Oh. Yeah. Nice he’s alive, at least._

“How bad off’s pretty bad?”

“Gabe wants Moira and Hunter on his case.”

“Mmm. That aint good.”

They nod in silent agreement, then continue discussing the finer points of a calzones. They must’ve been out walking for quite some time, seeing as how everyone else is in the carrier. Moira, Hunter, and a few rookie-lookin’ medics are gathered around an emergency operating table. The sound of life support machines blend into the drone of the carrier, too familiar and rhythmic to stand out. 

Jesse joins the rest of the crew in strapping into the carrier seats. He was very grateful that Gabe’s unit was shipping out first. The other units they had brought along would be on clean up and forensics. That usually only took a few days, but with the sheer number of bodies, it could take weeks. He didn’t want to be here that long, living in the place where some of his worst nightmares and happiest moments had happened. No to mention living with the smell of God knows how many corpses.

_Think about the silver lining. You got some out alive. Like him._

Jesse glances over to the operating table as the carrier whirrs to life, lifting into the inky black sky.

The man looks downright peaceful laid out on the table. His head was tilted to one side, his face perfectly still. His arm hung listlessly off the edge of the table. It would have looked perfect without the medical equipment and blood. Maybe it was the sedatives and painkillers that lent the man peace, or maybe it was the lack of the magical bindings Jesse had found him in. Maybe he was lucky enough to be dreaming. Jesse hoped the man was dreaming. If he had any kinda luck, maybe _he’d_ be dreaming later that night instead of his mind warping what had been left of the faces they found earlier. Or of Ashe surrounded by howling hell-wolves. Or of the fire, or . . .Well, it wasn’t likely, but a man could hope.

He lays his head back and tries to rest.

 

             ------- oOo -------

 

Jesse grunts as the pilot reports that they are now at cruising height and can move about the cabin, and cracks his eyes open. He hasn’t even tried to fall asleep.

_Nothin’ like movin’ ta get yer mind off shit._

He stretches his arms, cracking his elbows and wrists, shooting a smile and the occasional joke to the team. Nick and Nate have moved on to ravioli, and have roped some poor fresh-faced recruit who looks more blue-boy than Blackwatch into their antics.

_Poor kid, probably saw more’n he bargained for today. Must be why he’s on the first flight out. Gabe’s gettin’ more n’ more soft._

Jesse throws a blanket over a fitfully sleeping Fred. He wasn’t the only one tuckered out by the fight and cleanup, and while some shut eye did sound nice, he didn’t want what his mind would be dishing out. Judging by everyone’s interest in anything but sleep, Jesse guesses he isn’t the only one.

_Naw, I need ta focus on the good. I’m alive. Rest of the team’s alive. I got ta embarrass Fred pretty good. Serves him right for last weekend. I still got my hat. Shoot, we even saved lives today._

He glances over towards the man on the operating table, cracking a small smile.

_We saved his life! Even if he is yakuza. Hell, most everybody here’s been in some shit. I came out of the shit show we just busted, fer that matter. Maybe he aint so different. I hope he aint. If he is yakuza, maybe Gabe’ll try ta recruit him. We could use some fresh blood, since evertyhting seems to be going ta hell these days. That would be mighty fine, recruiting somebody off this mission._

The frequency and tempo of the machines suddenly begins to shift. Jesse starts towards the table, mildly surprised and curious. Judging by the looks of him, Moira’d expected the mystery man to be out for a couple of days at the least, but he’s opening his eyes. He looks real confused. Jesse can’t help but grimace.

_I’d best get over there n’ calm him down. He aint got any idea what’s goin’ on n’ Moira’s bedside manner is about as comfortin’ as a firefight._

As he nears the operating table, the man’s eyes focus blearily on him. His expression changes in microseconds. With no other warning, he drags himself up like he’s possessed. Claws rip out of his fingers and dripping fangs slice through his jaws. That long, beautiful bloody hair begins to swirl in the air as the cabin is filled with what feels like a tiny electrical storm.

Everyone around Jesse leaps into motion, dashing away from the patient-turned-problem or leveling weapons to fight. Jesse personally finds he cannot bring himself move. Instead, he is standing here slackjawed, fixed in place by the man’s eyes. The eyes shift rapidly around the room, bouncing from target to target. They’re cat-slits, dark brown and all shades of amber, lit from behind with sparking electric blue rage and  . . .

_Fear. He’s scared. He’s lashin’ out scared!_

Jesse finds himself lurching forward despite his screaming instincts and all logic, trying to comfort.

_Yer safe, don’t worry. We saved ya! Yer the silver lignin’!_

Instead of giving comfort, his move seems to cause the man to fight harder. A bright blue light crackles and sparks in the air, bursts from his skin. It crashes over him, leaping off his arms to form two ephemeral snarling creatures. They coil back, snakes preparing to strike. Momentum carries Jesse forward despite the terror pounding in his chest. His bones are screaming at him to run as the two beings target him immediately.

The room breaks into chaos around him as the team begins to react to the new threat without any kind of direction. They didn’t have a plan for being trapped in a carrier with two angry electric ghosts at cruising altitude. All at once, Jesse feels very serene.

_Gabe’ll wanna make one now._

The snakes begin to shoot towards Jesse.

_I hope I’m around ta name the plan. Gabe’s shit at names._

In that instant, He hears the familiar sound of coalescing. It shakes him out of his stupor, and he rolls to the side of the incoming angry blue spirit snake things.

He watches as Gabe rears up and beams the man with his shotgun. He nearly falls off the table, but Gabe catches him on the way down. The things make a quick turn, arch across the ceiling of the carrier and drop back to surround the once again unconscious man. They snap at Gabe, who dances away from the  . . .

_Dragons! Like the tattoo!_

After a few moments, they begin to fade back into the man’s body, leaving only a bit of static and the smell of ozone in the cabin.

 Slowly, everyone lowers their weapons, or crawls out from their defensive positions. Moira carefully approaches the unconscious man, reaching out to gently feel his wrist. The cabin lets out a collective sigh of relief when he does not move. As Moira and Hunter move to strap him down more securely and surround him with sealing spells, the rest of the cabin moves back uneasily to their seats. There is no more chatter in the air, only a stiff uneasy silence broken by the frantic chatter of machines and medics.

_So much for unwindin’._

The tension is broken by an almost comically loud yawn. Fred rubs at his eyes with one hand, stretches out with the other, then looks around in confusion.

“What the hell happened to you all, eh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! At the time I'm posting this, I now have half of what I've written so far posted! I'd like to thank everyone who's been supporting this fic so far. It's been a really fun experience to write it, and I'm glad that other people seem to enjoy it as well. I am still welcoming constructive criticism, and appreciate what I have received thus far! Enjoy!  
> Edit: I'm just really having fun with these, I hope you guys don't mind.  
> [](https://imgur.com/bQuFJTO)  
> https://imgur.com/bQuFJTO


	5. Strange Wards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo finds himself under the care of an unknown party.

Hanzo wakes slowly, rising upwards from the depths of an unconscious stasis. He has been floating for a thousand years, drifting aimlessly through the dark cold space between stars once more. He lets himself lift slowly, bobbing on the edge of consciousness. He has the urge to fall back into his slumbers, to drift just a little longer. Perhaps he could drift forever.

_It is not to be._

He pulls one hand up to his face, running it over his eyes to brush away the last wisps of deep sleep. He cannot remember the last time he slept so soundly, and certainly not the last time he slept on a bed.

_On a bed?_

He cautiously opens his eyes, hoping that the bed will not shatter as an illusion of sleep. He is greeted by a white plastered ceiling with warm recessed lights. He rolls over slowly, feeling the dulled ache of fractures and the pull of mending flesh and tubes. There is, in fact, a bed beneath him. Not only is it actually a bed, it is clean and rather plush. Beside him is an array of medical instruments, all humming and beeping softly, a little symphony tuned to his own body. Beyond the medical devices, there is a mounted holoscreen, a broken-in armchair with a small throw draped over it, and a worn bedside table with . . .

_Flowers? Where is this? I thought Deadlock -_

A small knock comes from a door on the other side of the room. A plain, wooden door in a plain, friendly  hospital room. He stares at it for several seconds in disbelief before sitting up further.

“Konnichiwa?”

The door swings open slowly to reveal a small, blonde haired woman in a doctor’s coat. She looks up at him with visible surprise.

_She looked tired. And annoyed._

“Hello! I’m surprised to  - ah – I’m sorry, do you speak English?”

“Yes. I do.” _Why did I answer her so quickly? I should be more cautious! I do not know who she is, for whom she works, where I am, or -_

The woman has caught him off guard and already pulled some information from him. Yet, he cannot seem to be too concerned. Perhaps it is the drugs that must be circulating through his system. On the other hand, there’s just something . . . soothing about this woman. It reminds him of a pleasant, vague memory he cannot seem to grasp.  

“Wonderful! I’m afraid my knowledge of Japanese is incredibly limited. I’m glad we will be able to communicate without the aid of translation!” The woman practically glides over to his equipment, pressing buttons and recording data with practiced ease. She speaks to him in bright, easy tones as she works. “I am one of your primary doctors. You may call me Mercy. May I have your name?” 

_Is Mercy a codename, or simply a nickname? And **have** my name? Certainly not. _

“Okami.” 

_“Seriosly, ni-san? Isn’t that a bit cliché?”_  

“I see. It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Okami.” 

“Finally?” 

_She knows of me, then!_  

“Yes, finally!”

Her laugh is light and airy, but has an anxious undertone.

“You have been under my care for a little over a week now. My  . . . colleague and I were just beginning to discuss the possibilities of more drastic treatments. Now that you are awake, we may not need to implement further measures. If we do, at least you are conscious to discuss them. Wonderful.” 

_She does **not** know of me, then. Or at least, she does not seem to. But drastic treatment? Measures? That does not sound comforting, regardless._ 

“Now that you are awake, I’ll arrange for dinner to be sent to you! I’m going to keep you on the b.r.a.t. diet for at least the next three days, I think. I apologize in advance for the lack of flavor, but it is just a precaution. I’m not sure of the extent of your internal damage. Do you have any food allergies? I haven’t been able to acquire any concrete information from your scans. You’ve been an interesting patient to work with.”

_A brat diet? Do I look like an uncouth child?_

 “Ah, I am mildly allergic to Hokkaido melons. Where am - ”

‘Mercy’ begins to save and close the documents on her holopad and finish changing out an I.V. bag as she speaks over him. She starts to drift towards the door, still speaking.

_Why am I lying here complacently?! Try and gain **some** information, at least, and stop spilling your own! _

“Hokkaido Melons, understood. I’ll also send in a fresh change of clothes, and some fresh towels. If you would like to shower, please ring the green buzzer. It’s on the right of your bed. Would you like any more blankets?”

“I – yes, that would be nice.”

She is nearly out the door.

“Excellent! I’ll see to it, then.”

She begins to shut the door.

“Wait! Who- where am I? Under what organization do you work?”

She shoots him a weary, slightly sardonic smile.

“I shall check in later, Mr. Okami.”

She shuts the door in one fluid motion, and he waits to hear the click of a lock, but it never comes. No sound comes, actually. Not even the retreating click of the Doctor’s heels. He strains his ears, and realizes he can hear no sound beyond the buzz of the equipment.

_A sound dampening barrier, perhaps? Not uncommon._

He reaches out and runs a tentative hand across the wall closest to him, and recoils almost immediately. As he suspected, there is a barrier around the room. He did not expect it to be so unusual, however.

_So strong and comprehensive! I cannot remember the last time I witnessed so many types of magic and applications in one spell. Hmm._

While it isn’t uncommon for hospitals to have wards and shields in and around their structure, they are usually fairly weak, The spells used to construct them are generally regionally based and cobbled together by the staff on hand and local religious officials. Even hospitals in larger cities utilized mediocre barriers, and included mostly mainstream spell systems in their protections. This one has a great number of specialties, and is incredibly sturdy. Even if he had his full strength behind him, he isn’t certain that he could break through. It is more than a little unnerving.

_What sort of organization is so targeted they would need this? For that matter, what organization is diverse and powerful enough to cast and maintain this, on a hospital no less? No. Not a hospital._

The barriers explained the comfortable construction as well. There was no need for physical obstruction when your spells and wards could stop a juggernaut.

_So much for an expedient exit and peace of mind._

Not that he feels the need to leave at this very moment. He may not know who his captors are, but they seem to be providing him with some much-needed medical attention, which he currently welcomes, regardless of their motivation. They also are not repressing his abilities within the room. Perhaps they simply did not realize the extent of his power and nature, or it could be a genuine show of good faith. Either way, he is grateful for the opportunity to use his natural healing abilities.

_It will be a nice change to feel well, but I should be cautious. Mending too quickly will cause suspicion and weaker joins, and I seem to be facing a powerful group._

Hanzo lets his eyes slip shut, and focuses on the crackling blue light just beneath the surface of his mind. He lets it expand to cover him completely, worming into all the slowly healing tears and fractures, stitching them back together. He breathes out a sigh of relief and deep exhaustion, and sinks further into the welcoming mattress.

_Perhaps I can sleep a few more hours._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I promise this is the last very short Hanzo chapter! I have the next few chapters written already, so I may go ahead and post the next Jesse chapter. I'd like to thank you guys again for your continued support, it is really amazing and I don't know to handle it! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°


	6. Mystery Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse tries to escape his mind and learn a little more about their guest.

Jesse had trailed beside the gurney on it’s way to the hospital ward from the carrier, weaving in and out of the medics that ran alongside it, checking on all of the machines that kept the mysterious man alive. Why did he feel the need to come along? Well, to be there just in case the patient decided to fight the world again. That’s what he told everybody, anyways. In reality, deep down, he really needed to see the man pull through. He needed him to live, for him to wake up and be decent folk. He needed a bright spot to focus on. And he needed answers.

He had walked along up until they wheeled the gurney into an operating chamber. Apparently Gabe had to pull him away from it. He doesn’t remember that part. He also doesn’t remember pacing outside in the waiting room for hours, and falling asleep on the couch. He does remember his nightmares. Firey faces, wolves, and nightmares like the center of a storm, sweeping him up and tossing him through his mind like a ragdoll.

_Aint no need ta think about dreams. They aint gonna hurt ya. And aint no use ta worry ‘bout him. You don’t know a thing about him Jesse, and he’s bein’ looked after by Ange and Moira. He’s in some good hands._

He reminds himself of these things for the millionth time that day. Instead of slipping back into the memory of his nightmares, he pulls out another cigarillo. Clicking the lighter and bringing it to his lips is as familiar as drawing his pistol.

_Two bad habits, both killers._

He puffs out, watching the smoke curl up and drift into the bathroom vent.

He’s been smoking a lot more lately. He’s also been putting in extra hours training and at the practice range. In fact, he even cleaned his room, something he doesn’t think has been done since he joined. Even caught up on all his paperwork. Still, his mind has had too much time to wander and dwell over the past few days. The day after the mission, he’d reported to the debrief with the rest of the team. After they had gone over a summary of the mission report, they’d gotten down to the nitty gritty of the aftermath and how it was going to be handled.

_“As you all should know, we recovered several of the former heads of Deadlock, both attached and otherwise.” Gabe smirked just a bit at his own quip before going on. “I’ve set them up in our solid cell-block, so there won’t be any accidental eye contact. When we make contact with the prisoners, you need to follow all of the usual procedures, but you also need to wear sunglasses that conceal your eyes.”_

_“Even at night?”_

_Snorts echoed around the conference room._

_“Yes Hunter. Even at night. Speaking of, you and Fred are on the night shift tonight.”_

_It took all of Jesse’s inner strength to not waggle his eyebrows at Fred, who was adamantly staring at the mission report._

_“The rest of you should consult the schedule I’m sending you now to see when you’ll be expected to serve as guards, as well as some people we recovered that I would like you to look in to. Now Moira, as to your proposed solution to . . .”_

_Jesse tuned Gabe out, and looked over the schedule again, just to check. Yep. His name was nowhere to be found on the list._

**_Huh._ **

_“Alright. With that, you are free.”_

_“Fiiiinally!” Nick sprung out of his chair, snagging all his papers and his holopad, stuffing them willy-nilly into his pockets. Nate joined him, the two of them running out the door as fast as possible._

_“You two idiotas had better not be late to your shifts, and I want reports on my desk by Friday morning!”_

_Their reply echoed from half-way down the hall._

_“You got it boss-man!”_

_Gabe had snorted his doubt, shaking his head as he began to re-arrange his papers and holopads. Jesse lingered, waiting til he looked up._

_“Something wrong, Jessito?”_

_Jesse hesitated, but then went and opened his damn mouth anyways._

_“There a reason I aint on the roster?”_

_The words came out tense. Gabe’s head lifted a little higher as he put down the paperwork. He had looked Jesse straight in the eye. Jesse shifted a bit on his feet, suddenly nervous._

_“Why are you thinking you’re not on the roster?”_

**_Why? Why am I?_ **

_The obvious answer seemed simple. Why would Gabe put him, a former Deadlock head, on duty to watch his former Deadlock peers? Of course he couldn’t be trusted to do that. Just because it made sense doesn't mean it doesn't sting._

_“Jessito. Hijo. You’re thinking you can’t be trusted with this, aren’t you?”_

_Jesse had blinked in surprise. Sometimes he forgot just how smart Gabe was._

_“Y-yeah, guess I am.”_

_“Listen, Jesse. I trusted you to have my six when we went in, didn’t I?_

_“Well, yeah, but - ”_

_“No, no buts! You have been my right hand man for years now, Jesse. I know you. You aren’t the kid spitting hellfire and brimstone that I picked up robbing a train in the middle of an electric storm. You’ve grown, and changed, and I trust you with my life. Hell, I would trust you with my kids, if I had any beside you.”_

_“Then why didn’t - ”_

_“Because, Jesse! You are in no mental state to be guarding and listening to and watching your former abusers for hours! Just seeing what they’ve been doing has got you stumbling around in a bad place for  days. As your commander, as your friend, and as your father, I am not going to let those manipulative bastards have the opportunity to tear you apart even more!”_

_Jesse had deflated immediately. Gabe was just looking out for him like he always did, and he had just jumped to the worst conclusion. He was out of sorts. Maybe he should try and get some rest._

 

He flicks the last bit of ash off the butt of his cigarillo, snuffing it out completely in his sink. He definitely needed the rest, and while he isn’t back to where he had been before the mission, he was doing much better. Even so, he still couldn’t shake the underlying feeling that there was something off about the whole Deadlock situation.

_Don’t dwell on it. Move on. Yer just overthinkin’ it cause you were close to ‘em. Cause you were part of it. That’s all. Right now, it’s time to get some lunch. You’ll feel better after ya eat, so cheer up!_

He pulls himself off of the wall and looks in the mirror, distracting himself from his doubts and demons by closely examining the beard he’s growing in. It’s a bit patchy and the team’s giving him hell, but he thinks he looks damn handsome. Who cares if it’s a bit scruffy? He pulls himself up and places his hat on his head, winking at his reflection.

_Mighty fine!_

Although he won’t admit it to anyone, or himself for that matter, he’s been paying a bit more attention to his looks as of late, despite his mental state. It must be obvious as he saunters towards the mess hall, because as soon as he hits the doors, Nate and Nick start in on him.

“Looking good Jess!”

“Wow, you even combed your hair, huh? You feeling okay, Jess?”

The twins are grinning ear to ear, enjoying teasing him a little too much.

“No, Oi have ascertained that Jesse is not feeling well at all. In fact, he’s been damaged severely.”

Fred looks up with some genuine concern, and the twins wait in eager anticipation.

_Poor Fred. He aint the brightest crayon in the box._

“What wrong with Jesse?”

Moira’s expression shifts to one of grave intensity, looking at Fred, then the twins, and finally at Jesse.

“Well, he seems to have suffered a great deal of physical and mental damage from being squashed by a great weight. In other words, he's . . . _got a crush_.”

The table groans and cackles, the twins howling in laughter at the look on Jesse’s face. He crosses his arms as his face heats up, shifting to lean on one leg. 

“She’s got you there, Jess!”

“She does not! I don’t know how many times I gotta tell yall that I aint got no crush r’ nothin! Jesus, can’t a man just try ‘n clean up once in a while?”

Fred nearly chokes on his tofu burger before blurting out his disbelief.

“You? Clean up for no reason? I seem to remember the last time you “cleaned up” was because you had been sprayed by a skunk. Even then, Gabe forced you to trim your hair and dry-clean your hat!”

Jesse splutters.

“That is not true! The last time I cleaned up was when Morrion’s crew came on base!”

“He’s right!”

“Thank you, Nate! Least one of ya's got my back!"

“Of course, you only did after you saw that “lil’ pilot with the nice ass”.”

“I – That’s – Well it is!”

The table breaks into laughter again as Jesse turns red as a beet, huffing as he takes a seat.

“Yall are just meaner ‘n snakes, ya know?”

Hunter comes up beside him with a plate of food for themself and an extra for Jesse.

“C’mon guys, lay off him. It’s not as if you all aren’t the same way. In fact, I’d say you two are the worst!”

The laughter dies down as the twins rise to defend themselves. The table shifts into separate conversations. Jesse turns to Moira, asking the same question he’s bee asking for the past week or so.

“Anything new to report?”

Moira shakes her head and puts down her sandwich in consternation.

“Well, he hasn’t woken up yet. That is partially because we cannot tailor his treatment to him. All the readings from the tests that Angela will approve are conflicting, and their numbers are absurdly unrealistic. Oi have suggested that we use some more _unconventional_ testing methods, but as always, _Dr. Zeigler_ sees that my methods are not fit, regardless of the fact that her own are making no progress whatsoever. Oi am beginning to fear that he will be in this coma indefinitely. If we could -”

Jesse’s heart sinks just a bit. He has been keeping up with the man’s status every day. After all, he could use a friend during his recovery, if only to mediate between Ange and Moira. Jesse doesn’t mind filling that position, especially after being the one stuck in the medbay at their conflicting mercies upon plenty of occasions. Jesse was also invested because the man’s recovery would mean that he and Blackwatch had saved one more life. Of course, he was also interested in eventually talking to the man and figuring out why Ashe had been so keen to kill him. The fact that the man was easy on the eyes didn’t hurt his interest, either.

Moira’s tone shifts, pulling Jesse out of his thoughts.

 “ – which would provide us with a constant stream of likely far more reliable data. All of that being said, he is, as far as we can determine, stable. Does that satisfy your inquiry, Jesse?”

“Yep, sure does. Thanks Moira, and remember - ”

“Yes, Yes, Oi will notify you the moment he wakes. After all, Oi’m sure he will want to know who sent him flowers.”

“Thank ya kindly, Moira. I appreciate it.”

“Of course, Jesse. Now, you’ll have to excuse me. I’ve got a few time-sensitive things that need attending to.”

“Alright, I’ll letchya go! Try not ta blow up more’n ya have to!”

She snorts and smirks, giving Jesse a wink.

“No promises.”

Jesse smiles at his plate.

_Wait. When did I clear it?_

Nate and Nick are choking down snickers as Jesse gives them a knowing glare.

“All right, I’ll let you fellas off easy this time.”

“Whatever do you mean, Jess?”

He snorts in amusement, shaking his head, and pushing out his chair.

“I’ll see yall later. I’m gonna go check in on Gabe, I get the feeling he’s still in the conspiracy cave.”

Hunter looks up at him, frustration written all over their face.

“Yup, he probably is. In which case, he’s been in there for over a day now, despite my prodding. Would you be so kind as to take him a plate?”

“You got it! I’ll remind him he could stand ta take a break.”

“Thanks Jesse. You have the patience of a saint.”

             ------- oOo -------

Sure enough, Gabe is in his office, or as the team likes to call it, “the conspiracy cave”. Jesse knocks before nudging the door open with his foot. As soon as it starts to open, Gabe’s voice barks out from behind mountains of papers, books, and holoscreens.

“Unless it’s an emergency, get the fuck out!”

“It’s me, jeffe!”

“Oh, Jesse!”

Gabe’s head pops up from behind a precarious stack of very old books and photographs.

“Is that food?”

“Yup! Brought to you at the request of one disgruntled Hunter.”

“Let me guess; I need to take a break and rest?”

“Winner winner chicken dinner!”

Gabe pauses mid bite, looking perturbed.

“I thought this was beef.”

“Aw, ya know what I mean!”

Gabe chuckles as he inhales the now-cold burger like a starving man. He talks with his mouth half full, eating with one hand and gathering documents with the other.

“Go ahead and take a seat, Jesse.”

Jesse nods, settling in to the only other chair in the room that wasn’t entirely occupied by books and binders.

“What’reya workin’ on here?”

“A couple things. I’m beginning to start interrogations. So far, they’re tougher to crack than I thought. They're nothing if not loyal, and Ashe is a stubborn puta madre, but I’m sure you know that.”

Jesse just nods in agreement, waiting for Gabe to go on.

“I’ve also been digging into the identities of all of the victims we’ve found. Most of them have been easy enough to find. Lots of average Joes with plenty of paper trail. There’s also a fair amount of people from enemy gangs in the mix, but none of them have really been giving us much trouble.”

“Yeah, when I was with ‘em, we pretty much just took folk worth money or folks that would be an example, so that bit don’t surprise me none.”

“I remember you mentioning that in planning. That being said, it appears that most of these people weren’t up for ransom. Most of the humans were, but we’ve got a bit of an odd mix otherwise. Some were being auctioned off for services, others were being auctioned off, well, bit by bit.”

“That don’t sound good.”

“No, it isn’t. We got there at a good time, though. Apparently, there was going to be a large auction in the next two months. We’re still collecting information on that, but it may lead to another mission.”

“Sounds like.”

“Yup. Anyways, we got a bit hung up on the identity of one of the captives, but they turned out to be a homunculus that was in the upper echelons of Vishkar for a while. They slipped through the system a bit because they were marked as a deceased. Looks like Deadlock was renting them out as a sort of live philosophers stone.”

Jesse grimaced.

“That definitely doesn’t sound very pleasant.”

“No it doesn’t, does it? I lost a bit of sympathy for them after I saw their alleged criminal charges, though.”

“Mmm. Pretty bad?”

“Real nasty, like instrumental in mass-genocide nasty. We won’t be able to prove it of course, so they’ll go back to Vishkar.”

“Hell. Don’t know what I was expecting though, Vishkar’s too slippery to let any of theirs get sentenced, huh?”

“Si, es la verdad. I can’t wait to catch one someday. Anyways, there’s just one person that we can’t seem to identify. No prints on record, no eye scans, no photo matches, no DNA relatives, and no digital footprint as far as we can tell. It’s as if he doesn’t exist. Bet you can’t guess who it is I’m talking about.”

“The one Ashe tried to off?”

“That’s the one.”

“Damn! You really have no ideas who he is?”

Gabe gives him a smirk.

“Now I didn’t say that. I do have a possible lead, but even I have to admit it’s a little far-fetched.” Jesse leans in as Gabe digs through a pile and pulls out an ancient looking book. Jesse turns his head to read the cover.

“Ancient Japanese art?”

“Si. Now bear with me here. Because we could’nt find any solid information to go off, I started to look into his tattoo. Remember how I said it looks old-fashioned, but definitely Yakuza?”

“Yeah?”

“Well it turns out old-fashioned is an understatement. Look at this.”

Gabe flips the book open to a marked page, and points to a print of a very old, faded illustration. Jesse sucks in a breath and stares at the image in disbelief. As old and stylized as it was, the man in the image was recognizably similar to the unconscious man sitting in their hospital. He squints to read the caption.

“Illustration of early tattoos? That’s all we got?”

“That’s all this book gave me, yes. Once I found this image, though, I had a jumping off point.”

Gabe digs through his piles, producing several more books after a few moments, and opening each to specific pages.

“I found the image again in this book. As you can see, the caption further identifies the work as ‘an early Yayoi depiction of the arm tattoos on the leader of a family’. That led me to this book, which not only corroborates the idea that this is the head of a family, but identifies the family as “Shimada”. This was my breakthrough point.”

Gabe pulls out a holopad, and hands it to Jesse. On it are a number of web pages and images about the ‘ancestral spirits of the Shimada clan’. While some sources seem to be fairly legitimate and include several images from many millennia that look hauntingly similar to the man that Jesse has saved, others look, well, a little less trustworthy.

These websites not only proclaim the legends as true, but also seem to focus more on the mythical abilities of the man, men, or dragons, depending on the account. They certainly paint a much more interesting and enticing picture. They state that one, or more often, two brothers have lived within the city of Hanamura for as long as anyone can remember. Apparently, they come out on occasion, purportedly being spotted in settings ranging from festivals, to drug deals in back alleys, to arcades. Some places claim that the brothers are simply normal humans. On the other end of the spectrum, a number of people, traditionalist locals, mostly, think that there are two actual dragons in the Shimada family’s castle. No names are ever given to either one of them aside from “sparrow” and “wolf”, even though some sources claim to know the “sparrow” rather well. That being said, no one legitimate seems to have actually seen them in a couple of years. It all seemed a bit too off to discard all the information.

Gabe was watching him astutely, a certain spark in his eyes.

“What do you think, Jesse.”

Jesse frowned, flicking back through the various images. It was almost spooky.

“Well, I think it _is_ a bit of a reach, and some of this sounds like horse hockey, but then again, I’ll be damned if these don’t look a whole lot like our sleepin’ beauty.”

Gabe leans back in his chair, nodding.

“That’s about where I’m at with it all. Not all these sources are the most reliable. I’ve got some agents over in Japan looking in to it, but so far they have nothing more than whispered urban legends to report. Well, Urban legends and the news that the Shimada clan is a major Yakuza palyer, that is.”

Jesse quirks up an eyebrow.

“So he is Yakuza?”

“That’s probably about the only thing I can even come close to saying with confidence. After all, I seriously doubt we’ve stumbled across an over twelve-thousand year old dragon. Even if he has got some magic, pretty much every dragon has been hunted out, and most ancients are either dead or well-known and accounted for.”

“Yeah, probably not, huh? Well, hopefully we’ll be able to ask him ourselves before too long.”

Gabe shot him a soft smile.

“Hopefully, Jesse.”

“You talked ta Jack about any of it?”

“Some of it, yes. I haven’t brought this or the Vishkar one up. He’s got enough to worry about on his side of things, and this is definitely more our department.”

“Anything new going on in the blues?”

Gabe chuckles, and leans back.

“Oh yes. The UN is trying to levy for more transparency in Overwatch.”

“Again? I mean, I get wantin’ to know what’s goin’ on, but compromisin’ the blues wouldn’t be great.”

“You want to talk about compromising, what they’re proposing now would even bring us into the light. Anyway, Jack is explaining for about the millionth time that total transparency would cripple Overwatch as we speak.”

“Well, I wish him good luck and Godspeed!”

“I’ll let him know next time we talk. He’s stuck at the UN right now, could use a pick-me-up.”

“You would like ta pick him up, yeah?”

Gabe grins ear to ear.

“Shut up, Jesse, and let me eat in peace.”

Jesse slumps back in the chair, smiling. He flips through all the images and posts again, reading the information a little more closely as Gabe eats. All of the more believable personal accounts are relatively short on details about the man called “wolf”. Based on the descriptions and pictures, “sparrow” is definitely not the guy they’ve picked up. The stories about the “wolf” do seem to generally agree that he’s fairly short and stocky, has high, sharp cheekbones, and an old-fashioned tattoo of two dragons on his left arm.

_It seems to fit. Nick-name’s a bit cliché, though._

Jesse’s com breaks through his concentration. Gabe looks up from his side-salad with a quirked eyebrow.

“It’s from Moira.”

“What’s she say?”

“Dunno, lemme see.”

Jesse opens the message and jumps out of his chair, nearly toppling the stack beside him.

“She says he woke up, and ta come see her!”

“Huh. I thought he wasn’t showing any signs of waking up anytime soon.”

Jesse’s already pulled on his hat and is reaching for the door.

“Yeah, she said that at lunch today. Guess she was wrong. Anywho, I’m gonna go see what’s goin’ on.”

Gabe shakes his head, smiling.

“Allright, Jesse. Just let me know what Moira has to say.”

“You got it, Jeffe!”

“And close the door behind you!”

Jesse can barely keep himself from running down the hall to the medbay.

             ------- oOo -------

He finally finds Moira in her lab with a rabbit in her lap and a holopad in her hands. She seems to be looking through a lot of data. Jesse raps politely on the doorframe.

“Moira?”

She tilts her head back to look at him, and the rabbit mimics the motion, nose sniffing away.

“Ah, Jesse! We’ve been waiting for you! Do, come in.”

Jesse can’t help but grin ear to ear. He’s sure to move slower than his excitement would have him move so he doesn’t disturb Moira’s fuzzy company. He carefully slides on to a lab stool across the table, nearly vibrating with excitement.

“What’s the news? How’s he doing? He got a name, or is he just kinda awake?”

Moira smiles at him despite herself.

“Always eager, Jesse. To begin, he woke very briefly, for less than ten minutes. Angela was there to see him personally. She reports that he seemed fully conscious.”

“That’s great news! Did he say anything?”

“Yes, he did. I have a feeling that we can thank Angela’s aura for that. We learned that he does speak English, and quite well at that.”

“Hmm. So he’s been educated pretty good?”

“Most certainly. He has likely been specially educated in how to handle his current circumstances.”

_In other words, he’s been into some bad business._

“Mmm. What’d he do?”

“Well, after Angela left, he immediately examined our barriers.”

“Shit, really? Most folks would be hard pressed to notice ‘em.”

“Yes. I believe he picked up on the sound dampening, so he must have fairly sensitive hearing. I’ve told Angela that her heels are a dead giveaway, but she refuses to let them go. Apparently, the appearance of her calves is far more important than our security. Regardless, I’m actually somewhat pleased he did observe them. I’ve received a bit of data on his own magical profile thanks to his curiosity.”

“Yeah? What’s it look like?”

Moira huffs a bit.

“Right now, it looks like an absolute wreck, much like his medical readings. The numbers are all wrong, and he registers as having three distinct beings within him.”

“I take it that’s unusual?”

“Yes, especially since he does not appear to be a death collector of any sort. It’s not unheard of, but it is extremely uncommon. That being said, I am fairly certain that none of the data I’ve collected is valid. It’s simply too unusual in too many ways, and without further testing, it is only a single, unreliable sample. Still, I will see if I can ascertain anything from it.”

“Huh. Sounds odd, fer sure. Did Ange get anything else out of him?”

“Yes, she did actually. When she asked him for his name, he hesitated for just a moment before giving her one. It’s likely that it’s not his own, but he gave it with enough confidence that he must use the alias often.”

_He’s dealin’ in darker trades, then. Or with the fey. Either way, aint great._

“What name did he give?”

Moira chuckles.

“Oi cannot make these things up. He gave her the name Okami.”

“Okami?”

“Yes. It translates to wolf.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist going ahead and posting this Jesse chapter. Poor baby's having some problems, but he's still a big sweetheart. I hope you guys enjoy!  
> Edit: More 'photoshop practice'
> 
>  
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/ykJSjTH)  
>   
> https://i.imgur.com/ykJSjTHb.jpg


	7. Skin thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo meets his anonymous well-wisher.

Hanzo is surprised to awake to the same room he last found himself in.

_She did bring more blankets._

He sits up cautiously, looking around the homey, if extremely protected, room. The promised change of clothing and towels sit in a tidy pile on the armchair, and there are even more flowers on the bed-side table, as well as a card.

_Who is leaving these here? And who is allowing it?_

He reaches out for the card gently, expecting the sting of opening wounds, but none comes.

_It seems that I am finally regenerating some. Excellent. Now, who has sent these?_

The front of the card has a glossy image of a field of daises, with a single blue and black butterfly perched on the largest bloom. He opens the card. It reads “Sending well wishes your way!” in juvenile, skewed lettering. It’s slightly endearing. He blame’s Genji’s atrocious handwriting for the feeling as he sets the card back on the table.

He decides to stretch, reaching cautiously towards the ceiling, waiting for the pain in his ribs and the ripping across his back.

_Nothing. I truly have been allowed to rest properly. This much is good. I am also still in this lovely room. Also good. I wonder . . ._

Hanzo pulls back the covers with more than a little trepidation and dread. There, where he still expects to see his legs, and ankles, and toes, is nothing. Absolutely nothing. It still rocks him.

_Pull yourself together. You know that they are no longer there, and will never be again. That is not what you are looking for. Think, do not feel. Now is not the time._

He leans over to examine the ends more closely. To his surprise, not only is the severed area clean and uninfected, it also looks as if they have been professionally sealed. He sits back and flexes his knee. Surely enough, the short stumps move as they should, even if they do so slowly and painfully.

_They have given me back some mobility. Are they attempting to earn my trust?_

He sits up and jerks the sheets as the door begins to open without warning. His ears flick back and his nails extend instinctually. A tall, lanky woman with shockingly red hair enters the room, tapping away angrily at a holoscreen. Her face is painted with an aggravated scowl. 

“Hello?”

Her head jerks up, frustration immediately replaced with surprise.

“Hello! Oi didn’t expect to see you awake! Terribly sorry for walking in on you without warning, Mr. Okami. I am Dr. O’Deorain, your other primary doctor. Oi’ve been told that you have already met Mercy?”

_Is that her name, or a fake name? It seems accurate . . ._

“Yes, I have.”

“Excellent. You do remember your last period of consciousness.”

She writes something on her holopad.

“Oi am certain, then, that you remember asking her several questions about your circumstances?”

_Ah. Down to business._

“Yes?”

“It is the natural response, of course, and Oi cannot blame you for your curiosity. However, you see _, Mr. Okami_ , I am not currently inclined to give you any information, as you have not given myself or Mercy any of yours. As your doctors, we will not intentionally harm you, but we will also not offer up a fount of information to a potential liability. I hope you understand.”

_How very tactful. So they do not know who I am. That is excellent._

“I do.”

“I am glad we have an understanding. Now, it has been four days since you were last conscious. During those four days, your healing accelerated drastically. Is it safe to assume that you have some natural regenerative abilities, Mr. Okami?”

_She is trying to begin a small exchange of information, then? Hmm._

“Yes, it is a safe assumption.”

Dr. Odeorain blinked. Apparently, she had not been expecting such a straightforward response. She began typing again.

_Very good. I will play this game to my advantage._

“Oi see. As you already know, there is a shower at your disposal. It is in the small room behind your bed. If you are inclined to use it, Oi will bring in a wheelchair. Oi suspect you will be more or less capable of showering yourself at this point in your recovery, but if you run into trouble, there is a green button in  the shower and on the counter that will summon aid. As to your current medical status, your internal and external injuries are healing quite nicely, but do try not to scrub your wounds too vigorously. Would you like to shower?”

“Ah. Yes, I could stand to shower. Or sit, I suppose.” He says it with a bit of mirth.

_“Humor? From **you,** brother? I think you may need to see a Doctor!”_

Dr. Odeiran’s eyebrows hit her hairline before she lets out a short, cackling laugh.

“Very well then, Mr. Okami. I shall acquire a wheel chair for your use.”

She begins to stride towards the door, holopad in hand, but pauses right before she exits entirely.

“By the by, would you care to have a visitor later?”

It is his turn to be surprised.

“A visitor?”

“Yes, a visitor. A colleague of mine has taken a bit of an interest in your case. They are the one who has left you those flowers.”

“Ah. I suppose I do not mind, then.”

“Oi’m sure they’ll be pleased to hear that.”

            ------- oOo -------

The shower had been a difficult, but extremely rewarding ordeal. It was a fight to lift himself out of the wheelchair and onto the bench in the shower. He did not attempt to use any sort of magical assist. After all, he has no idea where the inevitable monitoring devices are planted, and he does not intend to give away more than he already has or is necessary. After finally getting in to the shower, he opened the hot water and was immediately reminded of how long it had been since he last had this luxury.

He had watched, cathartic, as the matted blood from his hair had swirled with the water, a dancing strip of rust red than ran across newly-formed scars and dove down, swirling against sleek white porcelain. It was as mesmerizing as it was disturbing. After shampooing his hair at least three times, he had finally been satisfied enough to turn the water off and drag himself out of the tub and back in to the wheelchair.

He is glad for his hours of marksmanship practice as he struggles into the provided fresh clothes. He would have no chance of doing this alone if he had not spent so long building up muscle mass in his arms. As he pulls the t-shirt over his head, he notices something he is likely not supposed to see. Most of the label on the shirt has faded off, but he can make out a single line.

‘Propiedad de las Naciones Unidas.’

It has been a very long time since he last had any sort of course in Spanish, but he knows a fair amount of Latin. He begins to puzzle out the meaning as he brushes out his hair.

_Naciones . . . Perhaps nations? And Unidas, as in Estados Unidos? De las, of the. I am far too out of practice. Something of the Nations United. United Nations! Perhaps property of the United Nations? To whom would the UN issue shirts?_

The answer struck him like a bullet train.

_Overwatch! What other organization would have the need for or ability to construct such a highly protected building? Then I must be in the care of Overwatch. This could complicate things. If I remember, they house a great number of former dragon hunters in their ranks. Still, I do not remember them proclaiming that agenda._

His thoughts are interrupted as he hits a particularly wadded knot.

_When did my hair grow so long? How long have I been entrapped?_

After what seems like hours of unknotting, his hair is finally clean and brushed.

_I suppose it is nice this length, but it needs tied up. Too bothersome._

After looking through the drawers in the bathroom, he finally settles on using a fairly sturdy length of gauze. It’s not ideal, but that hardly matters at the moment. No, at the moment he is simply glad that he has the small luxury of clean, tidy hair. He is even more glad when he notices the disposable razor on the counter. Another sign of good faith, he supposes. Perhaps dealing with Overwatch will not be as bad as he fears. 

            ------- oOo -------

He makes his way back into the main area of his room feeling almost himself again. He certainly feels far better than he has since. . .

_Focus on the task at hand, Hanzo. Overwatch may have afforded you some semblance of health and a few simple luxuries, but that may be their obligation under public scrutiny. You are still very much a bird in a cage. You do not know how much they know about you, or what they intend to do with you regardless of your nature._

The reality of his situation sobers his mood a bit as he attempts to pull himself on to the bed. He struggles for what must be at least fifteen minutes before nearly pulling the mattress on top of himself. He decides to simply remain in the wheelchair for the time being.

_Perhaps I should attempt to meditate._

_“A still and disciplined mind can be sharper than the finest of blades, Hanzo.”_

He stills himself in the chair, focusing on the steadying rhythm of his breathing.

_A deep breath in._

_Hold._

_Exhale._

_A deep breath in._

_Hold._

_Exhale._

_A deep breath in . . ._

 

After some time, a rap at the door breaks his rhythm.

**Knock-kna-kna-Knock-knock, Knock-Knock!**

“Hello?”

The door opens a bit as Dr. O’Deorain steps in.

“Ah, Oi see you’ve made use of the shower! Oi take it you managed without much incident?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Excellent. It doesn’t seem to have drained you too much.” She scribbles something on her holopad, looking up at him from time to time.

_Taking notes no doubt. I wonder what they have made of me?_

“Are you still feeling well enough to see the company Oi mentioned earlier?”

_Oh yes. That._

“I am.”

She nods, then looks back to the door.

“Alright Jesse, you may come in.”

Hanzo looks to the door as well, waiting to see his unknown benefactor. He is not entirely sure what to expect, but his mind’s eye imagines a young, demure woman who wears high-necked sweaters and pendant necklaces. The idea is no doubt based in the sorts of women who seemed to be attracted to him

_“If you want the type of attention I know you do, then you should take notes from them, ni-san~”_

His mind is jerked from the voices of the past violently back to the moment by the unmistakable ring of spurs. His head snaps up, and he finds himself looking at a cowboy hat. The distinctive smell of skinwalker cuts through cologne and smoke. His mind reels as he crouches back into his chair. Talons and fangs extend without conscious command. In an instant he is ready to defend.

_It was too good!_

The man is taking a step backward, and the doctor seems to be saying something. It is of no importance. He glares up at the man and growls at him. The comforting crackle of electricity rises, a blanket of painful deterrent. He is coiled to strike, his posture screaming for them to stay back.

The man has wisely taken another step back, and is  . . . Raising his hands?

“Woah, now! Aint no need ta get riled up! I aint here ta fight ya!”

**_“You do not fool me, skin theif!”_ **

His words come out as a guttural snarl. The man looks taken aback.

“Now hold on just a second -”

He growls again, cutting off the man’s words. He can feel his pulse throughout his body as adrenaline fogs his mind. It takes every fiber of his logical mind to keep from transforming right here and now and eating the man whole.

 In the side of his vision, O’Deorain’s hands clutch two ominously pulsating orbs. His lightning begins to hiss and crack. The air in the room swirls around him faster and faster. She stares between Hanzo and his “visitor”. Realization dawns on her face.

“Mr. Okami.”

Hanzo does not shift his gaze to meet hers, focusing entirely on the man in front of him. He is not afraid to look him straight in the eyes. In his experience, skinwalkers actually find it unnerving, particularly when they realize they cannot overtake him. It seems to be working. The man has gone pale. The Doctor speaks again.

“Mr. Okami!”

**_“Nani?!”_** He snaps the word between his teeth as if to break it.

“He is not a member of Deadlock! You are not in Deadlock, as I’m sure you’ve gathered from the spells around you! In fact, _he_ is the one who _saved you_ from Deadlock!”

_A dark haloed drummer, come to drag me from my cave._

Hanzo blinks.

_The hat. The dark halo. The drum. This man shot her._

He feels the electricity start to dissipate slightly.

_This man shot Ashe._

“You shot Ashe?” He maintains eye contact, probing.

“I did.”

His dragons whisper.

**_“He speaks the truth.”_ **

Hanzo straightens in his chair, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He keeps his gaze on the man for a few more moments. The cowboy is weary, but he does not look away. It seems as if he is truthful.

“Thank you.”

He relaxes slightly, slipping into a decidedly less threatening posture. If this man was really the one who had saved him, then he should show some gratitude, not try to tear him to pieces. 

The man blinks, then seems to relax slightly in kind. Suddenly, he turns around and jangles towards the door.

“Gimme just a sec.”

_What is he doing?_

The man closes the door, then opens it again.

“Howdy! The name’s Jesse! I’m the guy that’s been leavin’ you those flowers, and I am definitely not gonna try anythin’ funny!”

Hanzo stares at him in silence before quirking a brow and snorting in a most undignified manner.

“Hello, Jesse. I am Okami. It is nice to formally meet you. I will not attempt to rend your flesh.” _At the moment._ Hanzo dips his head slightly in a respectful bow.

 “The flowers are quite beautiful, and I appreciate the sentiment of your card.”

The man, Jesse, fumbles into something almost but not entirely unlike a proper bow. Hanzo barely contains another amused snort as the cowboy’s hat almost falls off his head.

“Thanks fer not tryin’ ta tear me up, sorry I gave ya a fright. I’m glad ya like ‘em! I thought it might be nice ta wake up ta somethin’ pretty. Sort of takes the edge off wakin’ up in a new place, yeah?”

_He sounds as if he speaks from experience._

“Yes. It does.”

Jesse grins, a wide, lopsided, genuine gesture, and adjusts that ridiculous hat.

“Anywho, I’m glad ta see yer up and movin’!”

Dr. O’Deorain chuckles.

“Don’t let him fool you. He is more than glad that you are conscious. He has been asking after you at least once a day since you were recovered from Deadlock.”

“Really? How  . . . persistent.”

_I wonder what his motivations are._

“Yes, persistent _is_ a word, although Oi would be more inclined to use irritating. That being said, he may not look like it, but Jesse here is a huge softy.”

Hanzo looks towards the man, examining him from his spurs, to his pistol, and up to his hat. To anyone else, he suspects he would look far more ridiculous than threatening. He finds the man’s face in mock shock with a hand on his hat.

“Aw, c’mon Doc, why ya gotta go around exposin’ me like that? Soon you’ll have everybody thinkin’ I’m a nice fella!”

“Oh yes, because you have _such_ a reputation as a tough man. It’s not as if almost everyone who works here has seen you cry over tiny animals. Don’t get me started on the time you burst into tears in the mess hall over a video of a corgi.

“Listen, that lil’ thing was just too damn chubby n’ wiggly! Did you even see it bounce around n’ fall down the stairs? It coulda got hurt!”

The man looks distraught as he defends himself. His manner is certainly disarming, whether the effect is intended or not.

“Is the pup wearing a small red scarf?”

Jesse turns his attention to Hanzo.

“Yeah, it is! You know the video?”

“I believe so. My – A very dear friend of mine was so upset by it that he sulked in his room for several hours after watching it.”

_Genji would like this man._

“Jesse would have as well, if he had been allowed. Now, while this conversation is lovely, I have other business to attend to, and while you may be feeling better, you are far from well and need to rest. So I’m going to need you to leave, Jesse.”

“But I - ”

“No, no exceptions or arguments Jesse. Mr. Okami needs his rest. If he is awake tomorrow, and is not opposed to your company, perhaps you may visit him again.”

She turnes to look at Hanzo for confirmation.

_He is charming, which could hide a threat. Or he could genuinely be an ally. I will not know until I ascertain his true character. That will take exposure and time. And he is  . . . amusing._

“I do not mind your company,” Jesse’s face seems to brighten, “that is, so long as you do not spend the majority of your time crying over small dogs.”

The cowboy grins from ear to ear, tilting his head back in a booming, hearty laugh.

“I’ll try my best, but no promises! Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

_What am I committing myself to?_

Dr. O’Deorain leads the cowboy out, informs him that Mercy will be attending to him in the morning, and wishes him a good night’s rest. He nods, and is relieved as the two shut the door. He slumps back into his chair, exhausted by the brief exchange.

_I may feel far better, but I am also far from well. I need to sleep._

He glances over at the bed, and realizes he certainly does not have the strength to pull himself in now. He also refuses to call for assistance. He doesn’t want to indebt himself to these people. To Overwatch, if it is Overwatch. No, he does not want to be bound to them.

_Do I owe that cowboy a life debt? Could she really have killed me?_

He sighs heavily, wheeling the chair closer to the bed and pulling off the pillows and blankets. He arranges them to try and make the cold metal and thin pleather a bit more comfortable.

_I don’t know that she would have or not. Regardless, he certainly saved me from there. And here is more comfortable, not to mention clean. And I am healing._

He hums to himself in contentment as he begins to nod off.

_Genji would have liked this cowboy._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Hanzo has finally officially met Jesse for the time. It may be a bit rocky now, but I have a feeling he'll warm up to him eventually. I'm glad to hear that everyone is still enjoying this monstrosity I'm creating. I've been super sick and haven't been able to write a ton recently. Fortunately, I have a pretty large buffer built up for just such an occasion! Enjoy!


	8. New Face in Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse catches up with some old friends and finally meets his mystery man.
> 
> P.S. I would like to give a super huge shout out to the amazing krill for their help in beta-ing this chapter! It was incredibly helpful and much appreciated!

Jesse has a distinctive spring in his step as he heads towards training for the day. Last night he had slept like the dead, without a dream to his name. He had woke up content and energized for a change. He whistles as he walks through the halls, waving at familiar faces as he passes.

_Weather’s s’posed ta be nice today. Might go out ta do my laps. Be nice ta see some sun._

He adjusts his course at the notion, heading for the stairwell to the surface training grounds. Blackwatch didn’t use them very much. It wasn’t that they weren’t allowed, it was just that Overwatch was almost always using them, and they didn’t care to be the blue’s entertainment.

_I s’pose a little ogling ain't gonna do me no harm. Probably ain't a unit up there right now anywho. They usually don’t drill til a bit later. Mmm. Later. Hope lunch’s good. Maybe he’ll wake up today. That’d be nice._

Jesse’s still whistling as he reaches the above-ground base and dives into a sea of blue. He sticks out like a sore thumb in his all-black workout gear, the red and white goat skull on his chest a stark contrast to the cheery yellow and white accents that surround him. Well, that and the fact that he’s wearing boots with spurs and a Stetson. He gets a couple of odd looks, but a fair number of familiar greetings as well.

_Seems like there are a lot more folks on base than usual. Wonder if there’s a big op goin’ on soon._

He finally makes his way into the upper locker rooms, and through to the training fields as the first rays of sun are breaking over the horizon. He’s surprised to find there’s already a squad out here.

_Ah well, say la vee. Hell, maybe I’ll join ‘em!_

Jesse drops his bag, trotting over to the unit. As he gets a little closer, it’s easy to see that they are not happy campers. Most of them look like they haven’t so much as brushed their hair, and a few have their shirts on inside out or backwards. For that matter, at least two of them are still in their pajamas.

_Must not be used ta getting’ up at the crack o’ dawn. Gabe’d have our heads if we rolled out lookin’ like this for training._

He can’t help but laugh as the unit collapses in a sweaty wreck on the track. It was quite the sight, and he’s been in their shoes. A familiar voice cuts through his merriment.

“Jesse McCree, is that you? Come here, boy, I have not seen you in ages!”

“Miss Amari! Well, ain't you a fine sight as always!”

The older, stately sniper chuckles and smiles, arms open for a hug.

“Always the charmer, Jesse. How are you these days? I hear you had a very successful mission recently.”

“Mmmhmm, we did. Recovered a lot of folks, an’ all. Can’t really say too much about it here, though. Too many eyes an’ ears, ya know?”

Jesse says the last bit with as much seriousness as he can muster. Ana’s eyes gleam with mischief. She raises her voice to a stage whisper.

“So it’s true then? You really uncovered the fountain of youth?”

A small group of gasps and very quiet whispers break out behind them from the troops that are beginning to pick themselves up. Jesse keeps his “very serious business” face on and gives the slightest nod.

“Yeah, we sure did. Works, too. Our tank dropped thirty years on the spot.”

“Fascinating.” She raises her voice suddenly, swinging to look at the unit. Jesse can’t help but grin. “So fascinating, in fact, that everyone here thought it wise to eavesdrop on their commanding officers, hmm?”

“It certainly seems so, don’t it?”

“Indeed. Now, Jesse, what would be the punishment for such a thing in your unit?”

He tilts his hat down and schools his expression into one of grim reservation. He may have even shifted just enough to make his eyes glow a bit. Maybe.

“Well, Miss Amari, in my division, unauthorized collectin’ of information is a severe offence.”

Ana nods, far too serious. He nearly loses it. The troops are beginning to look nervous, with a few exceptions. It was likely that they had heard whispers of ‘the dark side of Overwatch’, a deadly force full of monstrosities and murderers that worked silently in the shadows. Far be it from him to ruin that image.

“Seein as how it’s such a serious offence, the punishment is pretty steep.” He runs a single finger across his neck. “If ya catch my drift.”

Anna nods, all dark and stoic.

“It would be such a shame, but I suppose if we must, we must.” The color has drained out of some of the younger troops’ faces. Jesse then tilts his hat back, tapping his boot and looking up as if thinking long and hard.

“Yeah, it would be a shame. Say, maybe we can work somethin’ out.” He looks over at the terrified blue boys. “I mean, y'all ain't gonna go around spoutin’ information, are ya?”

They all stammer over each other in a cascade of ‘no’ and ‘no sir’. Jesse stares them down, and pauses a moment before he goes on.

“Well then, I s’pose if ya ain't gonna blab, and we got ways of knowin’ if y'all do, that we could cut the punishment some.”

The troops look incredibly relieved, some clutching their chests, others slouching, and a few that must be in on the joke are grinning.

“So let’s just say a hundred suicide laps to start, and then I figure whatever you see fit, Mrs. Amari. Hundred laps should be easy, yeah?”

Ana grins devilishly, looking over at the unit.

_Now that’s the Ana I know!_

“That is incredibly lenient, Jesse. They should certainly be able to handle a few suicide laps. Now, why are you standing around? Get running!”

The troops stumble off across the field, tumbling over each other to comply as the seasoned members groan and roll their eyes. As the unit begins the laps, a familiar thundering laugh rolls over the two. Only one person that laugh could belong to!

“Reinhardt!” They both cry the name in unison, welcoming the giant knight to their circle.

“HELLO, MY FRIENDS! I see that you have already conned ze troops vithout me!”

Jesse places his hand over his heart, reeling backwards as Anna chuckles.

“Why Rein, I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talkin’ about!”

“Indeed, we have not done anything of the sort.”

Rein beams at the two of them, and gives them a wink.

“Of course not, how silly of me!” He turns his attention to Jesse. “Have you grown since I last saw you? You seem taller than usual!”

Jesse laughs, tilting his hat back.

“Good eye, Rein! Naw, I ain't grown, just got a new pair of boots.”

The two look down in complete unison to investigate, and Anna shakes her head in total dismay.

“At this rate, you will have higher heels than Angela, Jesse!”

“Yeah, and I’ll look better in ‘em too!”

They all laugh, and Jesse marvels at how far they’ve come. When he first joined, he figured a former crusader, much less _the_ former crusader, would have been quick to dislike a ‘naturally evil and untrustworthy monster’ such as himself. He had gotten quite the surprise.

            ------- oOo -------

_It had been a little over half a year since Blackwatch had brought him in. He had fought them tooth and nail at first, but he was just starting to settle in. He’d finally turned sixteen last month, and he had made the decision to officially join Blackwatch. Reyes – Gabe – hadn’t liked the idea at first, but Jesse was more stubborn and bullheaded than Gabe was in this case._

_So he was now an official part of Blackwatch. That was why he was currently being drug upstairs by Gabe to go and “meet the other half”. Jesse had tried to wriggle out of it, but Gabe had insisted that he had to get to know the heads of Overwatch in order to work well with them._

_He was probably right, but that didn’t change how Jesse felt about the whole situation. While he wouldn’t say it out loud, he’s terrified to be put in front of the Overwatch potentates. After all, as he understands it, most of them were straight-up hunters before they decided to get together and shoot omnics instead. While they claim to be inclusive and open now, he isn’t so sure._

_They finally reach the upper levels, and venture down several hallways. Dread begins to build in Jesse’s stomach as they walk. Everyone is staring at them. At him._

**_They can tell what I am! They know, and they don’t like it!_ **

_Jesse pulls his hat down farther, burrowing his chin into his bandana, the cloth protecting him from prying eyes. After what feels like an eternity of exhibition, Gabe turns out of the hallways and in to a hangar. Jesse looks up just enough to see none other than Strike Commander Morrison strolling off a downright gaudy carrier like it was a Sunday afternoon._

_“Gabe! It’ so good to see you!_

_The commander trots towards Gabe, arms open. The two exchange a long hug, all smiles._

_“Good to see you too Jack! I heard the UN approved the new base additions in Gibraltar. How’d you pull that off? Last I heard, the idiotas were actually trying to take away more of your funding!”_

_“Sheesh, you would not believe some of the ideas they had on the table. We had to go through five councils alone to . . .”_

_Jesse tunes out the political mumbo jumbo, opting to check out the carrier instead. It’s way too big, painted bright blue and yellow, and has a massive Overwatch logo plastered across it. There was no way it could ever fly into a mission. As he looks over the plane, he catches a glimpse of a very large figure coming towards them in his peripheral vision._

_He snaps to look at them, and finds himself head on with a very large man in knight’s armor. Not just any man, he realizes, but Reinhardt Wilhelm. Wilhelm, former Crusader, dragon slayer, and hunter extraordinaire. Reinhardt Wilhelm, who is looking straight at him, walking straight towards him with a massive hammer in tow. He’s bigger in real life. All of his fears begin to rise to a boil._

_“Gabe.”_

_“Hang on Jesse, I’m talking.”_

_Wilhelm is picking up speed, and lifts his hammer over his shoulder._

_“Gabe!”_

_“Jesse, I’m talking!”_

_Wilhelm is staring straight at him. He lifts up a hand -_

_“GABE!”_

_“Jesse, what is wrong with - ”_

_Jesse can’t hear the rest of Gabe’s words over the sound of his own pulse. He’s frantically pacing backwards, faster and faster, hand on his –_

**_Empty holster._** **_Shit! Empty holster!_**

_His breathing turns ragged, phantom bullet wounds pulse in his chest._

_Another hunter. Way more dangerous._

_His vision is tunneled, focused entirely on the threat. He’s defenseless._

**_I don’t wanna die!_ **

_He rips his eyes away and starts to shift, running for his life. He can’t see straight, can’t think straight. He doesn’t get far, falling face-first over a munitions crate. His foot crunches under the crate, pinning him. Clashing armor approaches. He can’t shake the crate to run. Hot tears prickle at his eyes, and he can’t breathe. His chest aches. The world spins._

**_I’m gonna die!_ **

_“God, I don’t wanna die!”_

_He doesn’t even realize he’s sobbed it aloud. Wilhelm is on top of him now. He bends over top of him, and Jesse braces for the end in the form of a giant hammer. Instead,_ _he is_ _cradled like a baby._

_“Don’t vorry my friend, you will not die! I am here to help. That looked like quite ze fall! Hang on, I vill get this crate off of you.”_

_Jesse gasps for breath in reply, tears running down his face. The giant of a man carefully shifts the crate off him, lifting him effortlessly in the other arm. Pain blooms up his leg immediately._

_“Fuckin’hell, carajo, shit that hurts like the Devil!” He exhales the words, still trying to suck in air._

_The giant man gently props him up against the offending crate, and stoops to get on his eye level. Through the fog of his adrenaline and panic, he thinks enough to look away. Experienced hunters could take one look at his face and know. He’s surprised the man hasn’t already figured him out._

_“What is your name, son?”_

_Jesse continues not to look at him, doesn’t answer. Wilhelm bends further to try and look him in the face._

_“Don’t look at me!”_

_He tries to put a little threat behind his words, but they just come out warbly and scared. The giant leans back on his heels._

_“It’s Jesse, yes? Jesse, I already know vat you are! I could see it in your stance and your clothing! I vill not hurt you!”_

_Gabe appears beside him, and the Strike commander was running towards them with a small woman ahead of him. Jesse looks up at him with tears streaming down his face and snot dripping out of his nose. In that moment, he feels like the scared sixteen year old kid that he really was._

_“Jesse, it’s alright, I’m right here.”_

_“G- Gabe -”_

_“Dios mio, Jesse. It’s okay hijo. Shit, I’m so sorry I didn’t warn you. I thought you would be fine!”_

_The Strike Commander has joined them now, and is crouched on the other side of Gabe._

_“It’s easy to forget how intimidating Rein here can be, even for regular people. Don’t worry about him kid, he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”_

_“Ja, it’s true! I’m sorry I startled you! I vas excited to meet Gabe’s newest recruit!”_

_The woman had finally reached them, and chimed in._

_“As was I. Gabriel has been talking about you non-stop. I take it you are Jesse?”_

_“Y- yes ma’am.”_

_This was too much. The world is still spinning, and he feels like he weighs a hundred pounds and his brain is made of dry cotton. And his foot hurts._

_“Damn, my foot hurts, Pa.”_

_Gabriel’s shocked face is the last thing he sees before passing out._

            ------- oOo -------

Jesse spent the rest of the morning training and catching up with Ana and Reinhardt. He hadn’t been expecting them back so soon. It had looked like they were going to be stuck with Jack at the UN for at least a few more days, but once again Jack had managed to charm his way to an early favorable outcome. He was awfully good at it. Maybe it was just his farmboy charm showing through. Jesse hopes for his own sake that it was.

He’d enjoyed lunch with the two Overwatch agents and his team, and once again, they expressed their jealousy at the far better food quality in the Blackwatch mess hall. Afterwards, they’d had to go join Jack and finish filing paperwork. Jesse saw them off, assuring Reinhardt that he could handle a little paperwork without dying.

He chuckles as he walks past Gabe’s office and finds it empty.

_Probably off flirtin’ with Jack. Just as well. He needs a break from all that research he’s been inta._

He and Gabe haven’t had much luck in their quest for the identity of the man. In fact, they’d only gotten less certain of their lead despite the fact that the name the man gave them matched their lead. The agents in Japan that Gabe had sent out to do some digging reported that there had, in fact, been two Shimada brothers. The brothers had been reported as summoners of average height. One had been thinner and outgoing, while the one that they had suspected was their man was described as older, reserved, and broad. The physical descriptions seemed to match up. Then the agents threw a wrench into all of it.

Both brothers had been killed when power had changed hands within the clan. To say they were frustrated was a bit of an understatement. Jesse found it particularly frustrating.

_After all, Gabe’s got plenty else ta worry over with the Deadlock interrogations. I’m just stuck with this bone ta chew on, and it’s like he don’t even exist. Wish he’d wake up already, give my mind something new ta worry on._

Jesse slips into his room, changing out of his workout gear and opting to splash on some cologne instead of showering right away. He looks at himself in the mirror, picking at his growing beard and running the facts over and over again in his head.

_Fella is short, badly injured upon recovery, has a classical Yakuza sleeve of two blue n’ gold dragons. Can manifest some type of ghost dragons, can shift, or at least look like he’s shiftin’, into a dragon-born, or descendent, or somethin’. Has high cheekbones, deep brown eyes, and is well built. Real pretty hair, easy on the eyes._

He shakes his head to clear his thoughts and makes his way back to his desk, deciding to distract himself with a novel for the time being.

_Need ta give it all a break._

He’s just really getting into the sci-fi novel he’s been reading on and off for a few months now. The big draw for him had been the cover. The illustration features a futuristic cowboy on a hoverbike looking out over an alien landscape. The contents were equally kitschy, and he loves it. He’s just getting to a good zero-gravity shootout when his com goes off. The message is from Moira.

‘Your crush is awake, and has opted to meet you. Come see me.’

Jesse dog-ears the paperback and sprints down the hallway, typing furiously.

‘Fer the last time, I ain't got a crush!’

            ------- oOo -------

He can barely contain his excitement as Moira walks beside him to the man’s room. He’s finally going to meet the man they can’t seem to make heads or tails of.

_I wonder what he’s like? Be a real shame if he’s a total ass. Don’t really feel like bringin’ out the rough interrogation tactics._

They reach the now familiar door, and Jesse knocks, waiting to hear what he’ll sound like. Moira shoots him a look to remind him to stay behind the door until she gives him the ok. He can’t wait.

“Hello?”

His voice is deep and rich, with a weary, gruff undertone.

_Like red velvet._

Moira opens the door, stepping through to ask the man about his state. Jesse’s still lost in his voice.

“Are you still feeling well enough to seeing the company Oi mentioned earlier?”

“I am.”

A pause, then –

“Alright Jesse, you may come in.”

He wants to bust the door open, but instead walks in like a regular person. Well, as regular as a man in Switzerland wearing spurs and a Stetson can manage to be.

‘Okami’ has tied his hair back in some kind of fancy ponytail that drapes elegantly over his wide shoulders. His back is perfectly straight, and his head is held in a way that conveys dangerous power and pride. It’s night and day form how Jesse has seen him up until now.

_Downright majestic._

As he soaks the man in, he catches sight of Jesse in his periphery. Okami’s demeanor changes immediately. His center of gravity drops, and the regal man transforms into the snarling beast from the carrier. He has the look of a dangerous animal that’s been backed into a corner.  This time, however, the man isn’t on the brink of death.

_Much more dangerous._

Jesse takes a step back, fighting the instinct to go for his gun, and instead raises his hands above his head in the universal gesture of “please don’t tear me to shreds”.

“Woah, now! Ain't no need ta get riled up! I ain't here ta fight ya!”

_I just wanna talk ta ya!_

The formerly rich voice has transformed into a layered snarl, the words rumbling like thunder.

**_“You do not fool me, skin thief !”_ **

_The Hell? He got a hold on that pretty quick, fuckin’ insultin!_

“Now hold on just a second -”

His words are cut short by a threatening snarl as the man’s eyes meet his with dark purpose. The air seems to break around him, picking up speed.

Moira’s speaking, but he can’t seem to focus on it. No, he’s staring deep into this man’s eyes. He sees malice, and hatred, both hiding fear and uncertainty. By his nature, he dives deeper into the eyes. Unlike most times, he does not find himself able to push into the man and see through them. Instead, he is in the eye of a storm, being stared down by two electric, ghostly dragons. They dive towards him again, but he can’t roll away this time. Their maws are gaping, lightning snaps around him -

**_“Nani?!”_ **

The bark brings him back to himself, though electric blue eyes still stare him down. He draws back from them. Moira is speaking in calm, if strained tone.

_She sounds agitated. Hope she don’t blame me. Ain’t my fault I’m about ta get eaten again._

“He is not a member of Deadlock! You are not in Deadlock, as I’m sure you’ve gathered from the spells around you! In fact, _he_ is the one who _saved you_ from Deadlock!”

_Oh. Of fuckin’ course Jesse! You are such an idiot sometimes! He don’t know you, or Moira, or even where he is, n’ you’ve waltzed in here lookin’ and smellin’ like one of this guy’s tormentors! Ya fuckin’ dumbass! No wonder he’s tryin’ ta tear ya up!_

The man blinks, breaking his gaze from Jesse’s for just a moment. When he opens his eyes, they are the most beautiful shades of warm browns and amber instead of electric storm blues.

“You shot Ashe?”

“I did.”

_Still don’t regret it, she had it a long time coming. Wonder if he’ll believe me. Probably not, huh? Don’t blame him._

The man sits up and pushes his shoulders back, transitioning seamlessly into the poised man Jesse had walked in on. He keeps his guard up a bit anyways.

“Thank you.”

Jesse blinks.

_Did he just – Alrighty. Death threat to apology. Sure. Wish we could do this whole thing over. Wait!_

“Gimme just a sec”

He trots out the door, closing it for a moment before giddily opening it back up.

“Howdy! The name’s Jesse! I’m the guy that’s been leavin’ you those flowers, and I am definitely not gonna try anythin’ funny!”

_Hope he’s got a sense of humor!_

The man looks at him, deadpan. While his face doesn’t change, he suddenly snorts. It doesn’t match his posture.

_Aw, now that was kinda cute!_

“Hello, Jesse. I am Okami. It is nice to formally meet you. I will not attempt to rend your flesh. The flowers are quite beautiful, and I appreciate the sentiment of your card.”

The man tips his head. Jesse rushes to meet the bow with one of his own and nearly flips his hat off.

“Thanks fer not tryin’ ta tear me up, sorry I gave ya a fright. I’m glad ya like ‘em! I thought it might be nice ta wake up ta somethin’ pretty. Sort of takes the edge off wakin’ up in a new place, yeah?”

“Yes. It does.”

Jesse can’t help but smile.

_Finally, getting off on the right foot here! Don’t blow it!_

“Anywho, I’m glad ta see yer up and movin’!” Moira chuckles, giving Jesse a dangerous look.

“Don’t let him fool you. He is more than glad that you are conscious. He has been asking after you at least once a day since you were recovered from Deadlock.”

“Really? How  . . . persistent.”

_Aw, c’mon Moira! Now he think’s I’m a creep! Well, already does but ya ain’t helpin!_

“Yes, persistent _is_ a word, although Oi would be more inclined to use irritating. That being said, he may not look like it, but Jesse here is a huge softy.”

“Aw, c’mon Doc, why ya gotta go around exposin’ me like that? Soon you’ll have everybody thinkin’ I’m a nice fella!”

“Oh yes, because you have _such_ a reputation as a tough man. It’s not as if almost everyone who works here has seen you cry over tiny animals. Don’t get me started on the time you burst into tears in the mess hall over a video of a corgi.”

_Shit, that video gets me every time, and she knows it! Where’s she goin’ with all this anyway? Ain't gonna do me no good ta blubber in front of him!_

He rises to his own defense, throwing out his incredibly convincing argument.

“Listen, that lil’ thing was just too damn chubby n’ wiggly! Did you even see it bounce around n’ fall down the stairs? It coulda got hurt!”

Moira just chuckles in response. Jesse still can’t believe no one else seems to find it as upsetting as he does.

“Is the pup wearing a small red scarf?”

He turns to look at Okami, glad to hear him speaking to him calmly.

“Yeah, it is! You know the video?”

“I believe so. My – A very dear friend of mine was so upset by it that he sulked in his room for several hours after watching it.”

“Jesse would have as well, if he had been allowed. Now, while this conversation is lovely, I have other business to attend to, and while you may be feeling better, you are far from well and need to rest. So I’m going to need you to leave, Jesse.”

_But I’m just starting ta connect! I haven’t even gotten close ta bein’ able ta ask him anythin’ yet!_

“But I - ”

“No, no exceptions or arguments Jesse. Mr. Okami needs his rest. If he is awake tomorrow, and is not opposed to your company, perhaps you may visit him again.”

She turns to Okami for an answer. Jesse holds his breath. The man is silent, staring at him. After what feels like hours, he speaks.

“I do not mind your company.”

_Mighty fine indeed!_

“That is, so long as you do not spend the majority of your time crying over small dogs.”

Jesse laughs, glad that he hasn’t completely botched this.

“I’ll try my best, but no promises! Tomorrow?”

Okami nods.

“Tomorrow.”

Moira escorts herself and Jesse out of the room, wishing him a good night’s rest and informing him that ‘Mercy’ would be in to check on him in the morning before shutting the door. They walk a few steps in silence before Jesse lets out a huge sigh of relief.

“He wants ta see me again tomorrow!”

Moira nods.

“Astoundingly, yes. Oi wasn’t very hopeful. As I’m sure you know, it would be far better for you to try and gain his trust and get some answers naturally than for Gabriel to pull ‘the usual’.”

Jesse nods soberly. Gabe doesn’t generally prescribe to the idea of drawing more flies with honey than vinegar.

“Yeah, he seems pretty antsy, not that I blame him. It seems like his personality might clash with Gabe, too.”

“Yes, they certainly might. He seems to be fairly proud, or perhaps it is simply an air to distract from his fear. Oi should have had enough foresight to warn him of your nature, even if it broke protocol. As such, Oi take full responsibility for that debacle. Oi’m sorry I lessened your odds, Jesse. “

“Aw, now hold up there! I’ve got a brain between my ears too,” Moira chuckles, “I have! And I’ve been in his kinda situation before myself! I shoulda known better than ta go in lookin’ like I do and expectin’ everything ta be peachy.”

Moira looks at him thoughtfully as they walk, then slowly nods in agreement.

“Yes, Oi suppose you have been in his place before, haven’t you? Is that why you’ve taken such an interest in him?”

“Well, yeah, I guess.”

Was it? Was it more sympathy, or was it a need for information, or just the pull of mystery? Or was he really doin’ this just because he’s been lonely and bored these past few weeks? Regardless, he doesn’t feel like getting into it with Moira. She’d probably give him a full psychological analysis.

“I guess it’s a lot of things. Kinda hard to suss out, ya know?”

“Mmm. Well, regardless of how it came about, Mr. Okami’s ‘display’ has given me more data to analyze. With any luck, it will agree with my other sample and Oi can make some form of progress. While you’re sorting out your feelings on the situation, you should try to track down Gabriel. He’ll want a report on how your . . . _encounter_ went. In the meantime, Fredrick is due for a checkup, not that he’ll remember, Oi’m sure. How horrible, Oi’ll just have to analyze this sample instead.”

“Mmmhmm, Gabe probably will huh? I’ll talk to you later Moira!”

He trots down the hall towards the nearest stairwell. He knows exactly where he’ll find Gabe.

_Right beside Jack, o’ course. Where else?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said it earlier, but I'll say it again: many many thanks to krill for looking over the somewhat-garbled wreck that constitutes my sort-of finished chapter drafts! Their suggestions and keen grammatical eye is much appreciated. All of that being said, I made some inevitable last second edits as I'm posting this at an ungodly hour of the . . . morning, I guess? As such, all errors can and should be blamed on my poor sleeping habits and other general life choices. On another note, the next chapter is not going to be a Hanzo chapter, but I promise we will return to our sulky injured boy soon! Thanks again to all of you, enjoy!
> 
> Edit: oops, my hand slipped.  
> [](https://imgur.com/qhzHriL)  
> https://imgur.com/qhzHriL


	9. Upstairs, downstairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jesse bends (or breaks) the rules.

Jesse heads upstairs for the second time that day, mentally bracing himself for the odd looks. He shoves the door open, tilting his hat down and weaving through the still-bustling halls. He makes several turns, going further up towards the center of the base. He passes easily through the security checkpoints, simply scanning his I.D. when needed and nodding at the guards. They take one look at the bleached goat skull logo on his shoulder and let him pass without a word.

He finally relaxes after reaching the innermost layer of the base. He stands up straight, tilts his hat back and cracks a wide grin.

_Safe!_

He saunters down the hallways, greeting secretaries and chatting with the oncoming traffic. After taking a bit longer than he really could have, he reaches Jack’s office only to find it empty.

_Huh, wonder where he’s at? Can be an awful hard man to track down._

“Jesse, how are? It’s rare to see you up top!”

He cracks a huge smile, spinning on his heel.

“Winston! Doin’ all right, how about you big guy? Athena been pickin’ on ya much?”

The gorilla, uh, scientist, laughs, pulling Jesse into a bear hug rivaled only by Reinhardt.

“No, she hasn’t been! That is, not too much.” He releases his grip, adjusting his glasses and smiling. “So what brings you topside today?”

“Well, I’m lookin’ for Jack, which is where I reckon I’ll find Gabe. Gotta give him a report.”

“Ah, yes, I heard your team recently made a successful bust. Angela has been asking me to look over some of her samples from it. I suppose she must really be stumped on something, biology isn’t really my field.”

“Yeah, pretty sure them samples are related to what I’m about ta report. You seen Jack around anywhere?”

“I saw him in passing about an hour ago. It looked like he was heading towards the living quarters.”

“Allright, I’ll give that a try then. Thank ya kindly!”

“You’re welcome. You should come give me a visit sometime soon!”

“You got it, big guy.” He tips his hat and pats him on the back before trotting down the hall.

_Hope I get there before he n’ Gabe settle in. Don’t ever want ta walk in on **that** again. _

He screws up his face at the thought, pushing past the double doors that lead into the nicest domestic quarters on base. The rooms here belonged to the most important and valuable members of Overwatch. They were really more like very nice flats, and served as permanent residences for the potentates and their civilian relatives. He passes an open door, getting a glimpse of a cozy living room and adjoining kitchen. Amelie waves from the sink, and he tips his hat, shooting her a grin.

_Gerard musta come back with Jack. Nice ta see Amelie on base again. Hope I can snag a croissant later. Miss my suite back in Rome, would love ta cook up some tamales. Shower here’s alright too, but it ain’t no tub with jets, that’s fer sure. Glad Gabe’s so extra sometimes._

He’s caught up in imagining his nice red comforter and his autographed “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly” poster when he is suddenly tackled at the waist and knee. He tips over, reeling before catching himself on the wall, surrounded by a trio of giggles. Small fingers snatch his hat off his head.

“Jesse, long time no see, love!”

He rights himself only to be smothered in hugs. He bellows out a laugh as he’s released only to be confronted by a very small girl in pieced-together armor wearing his hat backed by two older uniformed teens, grinning and laughing.

“Brigitte! That is a mighty fine lookin’ hat ya got there! Seems awful familiar though.” He rubs in chin in faux-contemplation.

The tiny genius giggles, pushing it up to reveal her beaming eyes.

“Thank you! I don’t know why you think it’s familiar, Uncle Jesse!”

Pharah chuckles, then mocks surprise.

_She looks so much like her mom now._

“Why Jesse, where is _your_ hat?”

He reaches up, patting his head in great exaggerated thumps, comedic astonishment crossing his face.

“Why, where is my hat? It’s just plumb up and disappeared!” He swings towards Lena. “Now, have you seen my hat anywhere, Tracer?”

Brigitte is giggling uncontrollably as Lena taps her chin and looks up to the ceiling.

“Hmm, well, I do believe I have seen it lying around somewhere, but I just can’t seem to remember where!”

Jesse scratches his chin again before leaning over and looking at Brigitte.

“Say, little lady, would you happen ta know where my hat went?”

She screws her face up, trying not to smile and shakes her head side to side. He leans in a bit closer and she starts to snicker.

“You haven’t got any idea at all?”

She giggles and snorts before motioning him closer. He hunkers down even further, now entirely at her eye level.

“Maybe if you close your eyes, it will come back!”

“Well, I suppose it might! I’ll give it a try.” He squeezes his eyes shut, trying no to smile at the barely muffled laughter of his younger friends. He feels his fair shift as his hat is placed haphazardly back on his head.

“I don’t know if it’s working, Brig. Can ya tell?”

“I know it is, I’m never wrong! Open your eyes!”

He opens his eyes, reaches up and then gasps with gusto, holding his hat as he falls backward in slow motion.

“Sakes alive, my hat! It did come back ta me!” He grins at the little girl. “How did you know it would do that? Yer so smart, Brig!”

She laughs, putting her hands on her hips in victory.

“I know I am!”

“And ever so humble!” Pharah chuckles.

She offers a hand to Jesse, pulling him up without a great deal of effort.

_When did she get so strong?_

“What has you up here?”

“Oh, I nearly forgot! Got shaken up about losin’ my hat I guess! Glad I got it back.” He winks at Brigitte, who snickers and grins. “I’m lookin’ fer Jack ta find Gabe. Got a report to turn in. You seen him?”

She nods, motioning down the hall past Lena.

“Last time I saw, they were in the media room looking over your last mission. I’d hurry before they make it to the bedroom if I were you.”

Jesse nods, glad to hear he wouldn’t need to wait.

“Thank ya kindly! I’ll have ta catch you lot later!”

He waves to a chorus of ‘bye Jesse’s and talk to you later’s’ as he trots towards the commanders. After a few minutes he finally reaches the room and raps on the door. He’s met with Jack’s clean tenor.

“Who is it?”

He jangles his spurs in response, ornery grin plastered across his face.

“Get in here, pendejo!”

He swings the door open, sauntering in with a wave and a tip of his hat. Jack is sitting on the table surrounded by papers and screens while Gabe lounges on the back two legs of the chair.

_Yet more proof that we’re too gay ta sit proper._

“Howdy Jack! Heard it went well at the UN.”

“Hey Jesse. Yep, for now at least. Probably won’t be long before they’re breathing down our necks again though.”

“Seems like it’s their favorite thing ta do, that’s for sure.”

They both nod in agreement as Jack pulls out a chair and motions for Jesse to take a seat.

“What brings you up Jesse?”

Jesse plonks down in the offered seat, placing his hat on the table and kicking his feet up beside Gabe’s.

“Well, I came lookin’ fer Gabe, got a bit of somethin’ ta report. Wanted ta catch him before you two were done with business. Well, this kinda business anyway.” He winks at Gabe who pushes his feet off the table.

“Don’t push it kid. What’s the report?”

Jesse tilts his head towards Jack and raises an eyebrow.

_You told him yet?_

Gabe nods in confirmation as Jack gives them a quizzical look.

“Yeah, we were just discussing it, actually. Go ahead.”

“Well, he woke up enough today that I got ta visit him.”

Gabe swings his feet down, leaning forward and giving Jesse his full attention.

“Moira say’s he’s gettin’ better, real fast. She thinks he’s got some kinda healin’. He looked a lot better than he has, that’s fer sure. Managed ta shower himself, apparently.”

“Really? Moira told me that he probably wouldn’t be able to do much on his own just two days ago. He must really be recovering quickly.”

Jesse nods in agreement, playing with his belt buckle.

“Yeah, he is. Think Moira kinda left him on his own to test that. He may be physically better, but I’m not so sure about mentally. He started spittin’ hellfire and brimstone like he did on the carrier when he got a glimpse o’ me, came at me with claws n’ shit.”

Jack frowns and Gabe bristles immediately, clearly unhappy with the idea of Jesse specifically being threatened by the unknown man. He hurries to calm him.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine! It was all bark and no bite, and I don’t blame him fer a second! I mean, I may be out of Deadlock, but I don’t look much different and I sure as hell don’t smell no different! If I was cooped up in an unknown place by unknown folk and suddenly came face to face with what looks like my former torturers, I’d be scared and fightin’ mad too! Hell, I was! Remember when I ran like a scared dog from so much as seein’ Rein?”

Gabe stays tense as he speaks, then slowly nods and deflates a bit.

“Si, I do remember that. You were so fucking frantic to run you broke your foot. I should have thought about that. I’m so used to you I let it slip.”

“I shoulda too. It’s alright though. Moira managed ta calm him down, and now she’s got more data about his abilities ta work with too, so she’s peachy. We talked for a bit and fer some reason he agreed ta seein’ me again tomorrow.”

Jack perks up as Gabe leans back in surprise.

“Really? That’s fantastic news, Jesse. I don’t guess he happened to give you any information?”

“Well, none directly I don’t think. I reckon he still don’t really trust me, but who would in his spot? Some stuff definitely stood out though.” He shudders a bit involuntarily as the image flashes through his mind.

_Two bright eyed dragons striking with long talons and sharp fangs, surrounded by hot lightning and roll upon roll of thunder._

“What did you gather?” Gabe says it matter of factly, but his eyes are concerned.

“Uh, well, fer starters, he carries himself like he’s someone important. Probably been trained in intimidation and all. Guessin’ that partially on his English. It’s real good, but it sounds more book than street. Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if he’s been tutored. He also snapped back in ta composure awful fast. I get the feeling he’d be a real tough nut ta crack if we went in with our usual methods.”

“Mmm. Sounds like he probably has some experience with interrogation, maybe even trained. Not too much of a surprise with that tattoo.”

“No, not really. I definitely did get one surprise though.”

Jack tilts his head, questioning. It’s a smidge endearing.

_You really are just made ta be Gabe’s type, ain’tchya?_

“Howso?”

Jesse fidgets a bit. He’s still not used to discussing his . . . abilities around Jack, much less other humans.

“It’s alright hijo.”

“Yeah, I know. Anyways, he knew right off I’m a skinwalker, said as much, then still looked me straight in the eye.” Gabe sucks in a breath and Jack lets out a low whistle. “Course I looked, thought it might be nice ta have him ‘on record’ if ya will, and maybe even, uh, ‘make’ him calm down. But when I tried ta, uhm, take over I couldn’t do it. Instead, I was stuck in the middle of this huge electric storm with these two big-ass electric dragons trying ta tear me limb from limb. I don’t know how I managed to get out, but I think he may’ve just let me go.”

The two look at him in stunned silence for a beat before Gabe leans forward.

“So you tried to take over and you couldn’t?”

“Not only could I not, I got stuck.”

“You got stuck. You tried to take him over, you couldn’t, and he trapped you instead?”  
Jesse nods silently. It still hasn’t really sunk in yet.

_Never not been able ta take a body, much less get taken instead._

Jack sits up straight, scratching his head.

“I don’t know much about all this, but that definitely doesn’t sound good.”

Gabe nods in agreement.

“No, it’s not very good at all. Jesse should be able to take over just about anything that breathes. He’s a very skilled skinwalker, which makes this much more concerning. Still, it’s definitely a strong, fairly unique trait. Hopefully I’ll be able to find something that matches up in our info.”

Jack grunts in affirmation as Jesse nods, tilting forward to grab his hat. He pulls it on, secure under the familiar weight. Gabe reaches over and pats him on the back.

“You sure you’re up to continuing with him? It sounds like you may not be the best fit for cracking him. I could send in Fred instead.”

Jesse snorts in reply, grin returning to his face.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Though I’d like ta see Fred try n’ navigate this guy. He seems awful sharp, and Fred . . . well, ya know.”

Gabe nods and snorts.

“Rich words coming from you, pendejo! Thanks for bringing me the information. I’d just brought up our mystery guest.” He turns to look at Jack. “We were discussing what few details we’ve managed to get on this auction situation.”

“Got any new information on that? Last I heard, you said no one was spillin’ on it.”

“That’s where we’re still at, essentially. One of my sources in Mexico managed to find a little more information, however. Apparently it’s a pretty high-level event, Deadlock was a bit out of their depth. As far as we know, it’s still proceeding.”

_In Mexico? Probably Som._

“Mmm. That ain’t good.”

Jack chimes in with a frown that looks out of place on his face.

“No, not good at all from what I understand, especially if it is still happening in a month and a half. Even if we knew where and when it would be going down it would awfully tight to try and plan a mission.”

Gabe nods in agreement.

“Unfortunately, yes. Still, we may get lucky.” He turns to Jesse. “If we do find out where it’s happening, we’ll be doing a joint sweep with Overwatch.”

Jesse frowns, tilting his hat back.

“A joint action? No offense to ya Jack, but we’re not really good at workin’ in the blue-boys’ playbook and rules, and I know most of your units get a bit antsy around us sorta folks.”

“None taken, and I hear you. As to operations, I’m not expecting Blackwatch to play by the rules on this one. We’ll be there to back your units while you guys take care of spiriting away the heads of the operation for questioning. That way, Overwatch can report their whereabouts unknown, and you can get info without us having a PR nightmare.”

Gabe nods in support, and Jesse processes it for a moment.

“That makes a lot of sense. Still, I’m a little concerned about friendly fire and trust issues between the units.”

“I can understand your trepidation, it’s entirely justified. On the other hand, that is another reason I want to make this a joint op. I’ve noticed more and more racism and fear popping up within my units, and I don’t like it. The day that our organizations can no longer work together towards the good of all is the day that it all falls apart. That’s not going to happen under my watch.”

Jesse is a bit surprised by Jack’s sentiment. He smiles.

“Well then, I reckon we’ll be seeing each other more often over this next month or so?”

Jack grins and he can almost see Gabe’s heart melt as he stares at him.

“I figure we will, Jesse.”

Gabe sits up and cracks his neck before addressing him.

“Now that we’re all caught up on the situation, it sounds like you’ve had a time of it today. Go on and get some dinner, try to relax. It sounds like you could use it.”

“Now that’s an order I can follow to the letter! Have plenty of fun, you two!”

Jesse winks at them as he pushes back from the table and heads out the door, closing it just as a book slams where his head was moments ago.

_You get im’ Pa, sounds like you two could use a bit of fun! Speakin’ of, I could use a smoke._

Jesse winds his way to the rec room, making his way towards the communal balcony that overlooked a nice little hidden courtyard. He clicks his lighter and brings it to his waiting cigar. He looks up to see that the balcony door is already open, and he peers in curiously. Ana is sitting near the edge with a steaming cup of tea, the barely-setting sun casting her face in a pale orange glow. She turns her head just enough to greet him, the faintest hint of a smile ghosting her lips.

“We seem ta keep runnin’ in ta each other today, huh?”

She chuckles, the smile barely reaching her eyes. She seems caught up in her thoughts.

“Yes we do, don’t we? Come, sit, keep an old woman company.”

Jesse snorts. Anna has barely looked a day over thirty-five the entire time he’s known her, but he chooses not to jab.

“What are you thinking, Jesse?”

He chuckles around his cigar, then decides to pull it out, holding it between two fingers. He watches the smoke curl up into the slowly fading light.

“Was gonna ask you much the same. Ya seem like ya ain’t all here.”

She looks ahead and takes another sip of tea.

“No, I am not, am I? I was caught up in the memory of an old friend. I have not seen him in ages, but I was suddenly struck with the memory of him. I have no idea where in the world he is, or if he is even still alive. It almost as if he’s near, but he would have sought me out if he was. He wasn’t one to come unannounced.”

Jesse taps his cigar, caught up in the colors of the courtyard.

“Were you two close?”

“Yes, we were at one point. People come and go, but we never really lost touch until a few years ago. It was around the time I joined Overwatch, actually.”

She sits in silence after that, sipping her tea and looking at something that wasn’t in front of them. Jesse takes another draw from his cigar, puffing it out slowly.

_Feels like we got all the time in the world here and now. We don’t o’ course. Wish we did. Month an’ a half ain’t that long, and I reckon all the folks we got from Deadlock are just the tip of the iceberg. Ashe ain’t gonna crack in a month an’ a half, and if she don’t none of the boys will. Except maybe . . . . Hum._

Ana suddenly smiles a bit, tilting her head to look at him. “How was your afternoon?”

“Oh. It went all right. Reckon I could tell ya details, but I figure Jack’ll brief ya on what we’ve been doin’ before too long. I’ll just say we may be workin’ a lot closer here shortly.”

Ana smiles entirely at that.

“I suppose the reasons are not good, but I will enjoy having you and your units’ company! Our teams could certainly stand to learn a thing or two from Blackwatch!”

Jesse chuckles, nodding in agreement as he puffs, sending smoke out in a long billowing line.

“Yeah, I reckon. Gabe may be loose on some things, but combat and maneuvers are definitely not one of those things.”

She inclines her head in agreement, swirling her cup.

“Yes, he can be a cruel taskmaster when he wants to. I will enjoy working with him in training.”

“Poor blue boys won’t know what hit ‘em.” He grins ear to ear at the thought.

“Indeed.” Ana upends her cup, draining the last couple of drops and rising from her chair. “Would you care to join Fareeha, Rein and I for dinner? Torbjorn may also be present if Rein manages it.”

“Naw, thanks fer the offer, but I got some more business ta attend to before the day runs out on me.”

“Allright, I’ll let you go then. Take care, Jesse.”

“Will do Ana. See ya later.”

He tips his hat and strides out of the residences and back into the throng, pacing fast towards the nearest stairwell.

_I got an omnic ta talk to._

 

            ------- oOo -------

 

Jesse grabbed a salad from the mess hall and started heading further down to the solid-cell blocks. He puts on his best air of nonchalance as he pushes past the rookie guards, giving them a wave here and there and a disarming smile.

_Farmboy charm, Jesse._

He’s still smiling as he turn the corner to see Fred on guard duty. He’s leaned up against the wall playing with a yoyo and looking bored out of his mind.

“Howdy Fred, ya hungry?” He asks it with a tinge of humor in his tone. Fred looks up and grins.

“ME, a Wendigo, HUNGRY? Never!” He laughs and happily takes the offered salad, digging into it like, well, a starving man. Jesse leans against the wall beside him, gnawing on a chicken wrap.

“Best finish that quick, by the way. Moira’s been tryin’ ta reach ya on coms for a while now. She was downright mad before I left.”

Fred looks up at him with lettuce sticking out of his mouth as his face drops.

“Fook, did I miss a checkup?! I didn’t think I had one todey! Fookin Hell, she’s gonna kill me! You can take over for just a bit, eh? I mean, I know you’re noot on the roster but -”

“Chrissakes Fred, hold yer horses! I’m sure you’ll be fine, and I can hold the fort til Nick n’ Nate get here. They’re due pretty soon, yeah?”

He glances at his com and nods.

“Yah, they should be here in a half hour, probably more like forty-five knowing them. Thanks a million, Jesse!”

“No problem, Fred. Good luck!”

He calmly watches him scramble up the steps, finishing the last couple bites of his meal.

_Sorry Fred, gotta do this. I ain’t really lied anyways. Just stretched the truth a smidge. Now, which cell they keepin you in?_

He glances over the records before trotting silently towards one of the bigger omnic-friendly cells and pulls the tiny bowler off a rack of confiscated belongings. He pops the passcode in, only to have it ask him for a finger and eye scan. He groans.

_Sorry again Fred, gonna have ta owe ya one. Gabe’s gonna give you hell for sure when he sees this alert._

He cracks his neck and shifts into Fred, scanning his eye and fingerprints, and holding his breath. The door whirs as the locks click and it slides open.

_Glad they ain’t fixed up the eyereader ta find me out yet._

He grins ear to ear, shifting back into himself and pacing through, sweeping the room until he finds the single occupant. The door clicks shut behind him as he finds the occupant’s head. He picks it up, setting it on the sturdy table in the center of the room and lounging in the opposite chair.

“Howdy, Bob. How ya doin?”

The omnic blinks in return.

“Yeah, is sorta a dumb question, huh?” He re-lights his cigar from the balcony, drawing in another puff before he looks back over to Bob. “Oh, nearly forgot.”

He leans over and places the hat on his head, adjusting it just so. Bob’s eyes close a bit in approval, and Jesse smiles a touch. He’s always had a soft spot for the silent mostly-gentle omnic, and the feeling was mutual.

_Least, hope it still is._

He puffs out his cigar and Bob gives him a look.

“Aw, c’mon Bob! The Docs here give me enough lip over my smokin’ habits, I don’t need ta hear it from you too! Here I thought I could just enjoy a smoke with an ol’ friend!”

Bob rolls his eyes, a particularly human gesture.

“Whaddya mean, ‘ulterior motives’? Yer woundin’ me!” He jokingly clutches at his chest, looking affronted before chuckling and leaning forward, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together. “Yer kinda right, o’ course.”

Bob’s look is essentially ‘tell me something I don’t know’.

“I will have you know that I ain’t s’posed ta be down here talkin’ ta any of yall though. My boss’s afraid Ashe’ll try ta play mind games with me. Hell, wouldn’t surprise me. You know how she is.”

Bob agrees as Jesse lets out a long slow line of smoke as he closes his eyes, trying not remember.

“Listen Bob, I know we’re not on the same side of this fence anymore, but we still know a lot of the same shit, been through it together, yeah? And we both know that Ashe, bless her heart, is stubborner than a pack mule. She ain’t sayin nothin, though I reckon you knew that.”

Bob concedes the point after a moment and Jesse continues.

“I also happen ta know that you're good folk Bob. A bit rough around the edges and lookin’ for a quick buck, but all of us are. Still, I know you ain’t rough or low enough for mass graves and torture.”

Bob seems to flinch at the mention.

“I thought as much. Don’t blame ya, nearly lost my lunch when I ran inta the shit yall left in the back of the caverns. One o’ the nastiest things I’ve seen and I’ve seen plenty o’ shit shows sense I got roped in to this operation.”

Bob looks at him quizzically.

“Hmm? Ah, I figured you’d’ve already pieced together how I wound up here doin’ this. They caught me on that train heist. I’m sure ya remember, the one with the crazy electrical storm? Anywho, they snatched me up an’ brought me here, had me blindfolded for weeks while they tried ta get me ta talk. Finally, they said I had two choices. They were either gonna put me down like the feral dog I was or I could join up. I reckon you can figure which option I took.”

Jesse waits, keeping his serious expression as he puffs out a cloud of smoke.

_Hope he buys this. C’mon Bob, please buy in!_

He becomes grim as he begins to extrapolate Jesse’s words.

“I see yer figurin’ it. Yep, they’re gonna start offin’ them if they don’t start talkin’ soon. That’s why I’m here, Bob. I don’t want anyone else hurtin’ and dead, and I know yer the only one with enough sense ta keep yall alive.”

Bob churns it over, then slowly agrees.

“Now that’s the best news I’ve heard in a real long time. Hang on just a sec.”

He pushes himself up from his chair, pacing to the corner of the room and practically dragging Bob’s torso into the other chair before carefully reuniting it with it’s head. Bob snaps his neck as valves pop closed and gears whir. Jesse sits back in his seat, rotating his shoulder and wincing.

“What are you packing nowadays anyway?”

Bob pops open his empty chambers and Jesse lets out a long, low whistle, eyebrows shooting for the roof.

“That’s one hell of an upgrade from yer old peashooters.”

Bob nods, eyes smirking. Jesse pulls out a pad of paper and pen, sliding them across the table.

“Down ta business, big guy. Whaddaya know about this here ‘auction’?”

 

            ------- oOo -------

 

A few minutes later, Jesse steps back out of the room with a signed confession of sorts and a huge grin. He leans against the wall and breathes in deeply as the door shuts, stubbing out his cigar.

_Fuckin’ Hell, can’t believe I pulled that off. Now let’s get this over with._

Jesse centers himself as he takes on Fred’s skin and as much of his essence as he can. It’s a bit off, but he doubts Nate and Nick will notice.

_They’re just psychic. Not even that powerful. I’ll be fine, just need ta make sure they ain’t gonna blab ta Gabe right off. Ain’t letting him know without the good news in my hand. He’s gonna have a cow._

The thump of feet alert him to the arrival of the twins. He checks the clock. They’re almost exactly fifteen minutes late. He snorts and musters his best Fred.

“Aboot time you two got here! I’m - ” The two interrupt him.

“Staaaaarving?”

Jesse laughs, nodding and tossing them the emergency beacon.

“Have fun on shift you two, I’m going ta bed!”

Nick snorts.

“Yours or Hunter’s?”

Jesse tries to be embarrassed for Fred. It’s incredibly hard, but he manages to look a bit flustered despite the fact he just wants to join them in prodding.

“How aboot you stuff it, eh? I’ll see you in the morning.”

“See you later, antler-brains!”

He gives them the finger as he trots up the stairs, relieved that he got past them. The walk back towards his quarters should be easy. Hunter is probably in bed already, Moira is still likely preoccupied with Fred, and Gabe was almost definitely busy with Jack.

He tries to keep a slow pace, reminding himself that the tiny tank is not a fast mover as he lopes down the hall, nodding and shooting a lopsided smile at the few familiar faces he passes. None of them bat an eye.

_C’mon Jess, almost there now!_

The familiar clank of dual shotguns rounding the corner of the hallway sends his heart into a downward spiral.

_Fuck me, I guess._

He then hears the less familiar sound of a pulse rifle being loaded and the swish of that ridiculous coat.

_Double fuck me then. Does Jack ever take that thing off?_

Gabe and Jack round the hallway, moving quickly towards the solid cell block. It takes Gabe microseconds to pick out the stark red and white mohawk in the nearly empty corridor.

“Fred, **the fuck** were you doing talking to the big omnic?! **And why aren’t you picking up your com**?! I did **_not_** have any sort of interaction scheduled and ** _you_** -” Gabe stops mid sentence, suddenly squints, and then practically runs towards him, facing screwing up with anger. “ ** _Puta Madre, The HELL are you doing Jesse Reyes McCree?!_** ”

Jack looks extremely confused, running to catch up to Gabe and looking quizzically between him and Jesse.

 _Shit, of **course** he had to come check on the alert. Of fuckin’ course he did, and he brought Jack and_ –

“Wait, ain’t that yer Pink Floyd shirt?”

“ ** _What?!”_**

Gabe nearly roars the word in his face while Jack turns bright red from his hair to his collar, sputtering. Gabe swings his head to look back, and then looks down at the shirt he’s wearing, red creeping into the tips of his ears. He snaps his head back up to look at Jesse.

“That is **not** important right now, cabron! Now what the **hell** do you think you’re doing walking around **_as Fred_** and talking to the prisoners I **_specifically_** told you not to talk to **_for your own fucking good_**?”

“Well, I - ”

“On second thought, not here. We’re going to my _office_.”

 

The march to the office is passed in awkward silence. Jesse’s somewhat glad that Jack’s here. He tends to keep a cooler head than Gabe, so he might be able to get a word in edgewise. At the same time though, it looks like he’s interrupted their, uh, ‘one on one’ time.

_That’s alright, I got what we needed! Hope Gabe agrees without too much convincin’._

The trio finally arrives at the door, Jack and Jesse fidgeting while trying to avoid eye contact as Gabe finagles the lock, finally shoving it open. He moves a couple of piles of books off the two extra chairs.

“Sit.”

Jesse obeys without a word, almost laughing as he discovers that Fred’s feet don’t touch the ground. Gabe sits down in his desk chair as Jack sprawls across well-worn, half-empty armchair in the corner, fidgeting and adjusting his shirt.

_Poor Jack, sorry ta drag you inta this. You need some time off._

Gabe leans forward, and runs a hand down his face while groaning.

“Change back pendejo, you have a _lot_ of explaining to do.”

He fidgets in his chair, hesitating and glancing nervously towards Jack. Gabe looks up and fixes him with a glare.

“ **Now** , Jesse.”

He sighs, then closes his eyes and slips back into himself. His spurs chime as he readjusts to fit into the now too-small collapsible chair. Jack is wide eyed, but trying his hardest to look like he isn’t staring at him like he’s the main attraction in a freak show. Gabe, on the other hand, is still glaring him down mercilessly.

“Now, you had better have a good fucking reason for _wearing Fred_ , your teammate who _trusts you with his life and identity_ , opening a cell door _without_ permission, and speaking to the one of the prisoners I _explicitly_ ordered you _not to speak to_ , not to mention making me come down here in the middle of my  . . . free time.”

Jesse desperately holds back a few choice words about his ‘free time’, and instead opts to preserve his life. Instead, he silently pulls Bob’s statement out of his shirt pocket, extending it towards Gabe. He slowly takes it out of Jesse’s hand, only breaking eye contact after he’s unfolded it. Jack leans in closer, drawn in by the drama of the moment and curiosity, no doubt.

Jesse can barely breathe through the silence. He doesn’t even dare to shift in his uncomfortable chair for fear of breaking the commaders’ concentration. Gabe’s eyes dart over the paper, turning it over, and then agonizingly taking his time reading it again. After what seems to be several eternities, he passes the paper to an eager Jack, who then reads it for himself. He is the first to break the silence.

“This. . .  This is a lot of very valuable intel if it checks out.” He looks up towards Gabe. After a moment, he begrudgingly nods in agreement.

_Victory!_

“Si, it definitely is. This gives us a very good starting point.”

Jesse smiles and sits up a bit straighter before being pinned by a far-less-serious glare. His smile falters.

_Not quite victory!_

“But don’t think for an instant that you’re off the hook, Jesse! I appreciate this intel, but you went against my direct orders, _and_ you impersonated another member of Blackwatch to illegally enter a secure area. That’s incredibly serious.”

“I know, but yall weren’t makin’ any progress with ‘em and we ain’t got no other leads!” His mouth keeps going without his permission. “And we gotta crack this one Gabe, you saw all the folks we picked up, and that’s just from Deadlock! Think of all the folks that are gonna be tied up in this thing. We gotta get to them before -”

He tips suddenly, blanching.

_Septic bodies floating in the back of a cave, dead rotting faces fixed in fear staring up through bloodied muddy water, left like so much trash. Lives layered up on each other, nameless and dehumanized. Ashe stands over them, then him, lips curled up in a cruel smile lit by a red hot poker, grasped in cruel gloved fingers. The smell of wet, decaying, and burnt flesh mingles, cut by ozone. Two dragons lay still and bloody, lightless. Red wolves howl in vicious victory._

He leans over and hurls in Gabe’s trash can, gasping for breath as distorted faces swirl around the office, sharp red lightning crackling between them. He heaves again, vomit blending into the pit full of bodies that swims in his mind’s eye.

“Hold on, I’ve got you son.”

A set of arms hold him up by his shoulders, another hand lays comfortingly on his back. They tilt him back til he’s sitting, head still bent over the trash can.

“There you go, hijo. It’s alright. You’re here with me, Gabriel, in my office in the Swiss base. Jack’s here too. You’re okay, hijo.”

“That’s right. Take a deep breath in, kid.”

Jesse draws in a long shaky breath, centering himself in the room. He lifts his head, seeking eye contact with someone to ground him. His eyes meet Gabe’s.

“There you are, Jesse. It’s alright, just keep breathing.”

He gasps breath in and out, following the steady rhythm of Jack’s coaching til he feels the numbing weight of exhaustion setting in. He wipes his face with a provided tissue and leans back in the protesting chair, rubbing his left shoulder anxiously. Gabe mimics the motion, squashing his eyebrows with the heel of his palms and letting out a tired, relieved sigh.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want you to talk to them hijo. I appreciate this information, it _is_ going to be extremely helpful, but do _not_ pull this shit again, Jesse. I’m saying that both as your commander and as your father. Got it?”

Jesse nods slowly after a moment.

“You got it, Pa.”

Jack gets up suddenly and extends a hand to Jesse.

“Well, now that that’s settled, it looks like you need some shut-eye. Need help getting to your room?”

“Thanks much Jack, but I reckon I can manage it. Am I good to go, Gabe?”

“Yes you are, and I want you asleep, not drunk, got it? Oh, and you owe Fred big time.”

Jesse closes his eyes and groans.

“Yeah I do, don’t I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A ginormous thank you is still in order to Krill for putting up with my utter lack of apostrophes and writer's block. I know where I'm going with the story, but I've just had a hard time with pacing and all, so please bear with me! I'm figuring out how to write as I go along, I guess! I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get up, I'm trying to keep my buffer. Thanks again for the continued support! : )


	10. Chai to Chamomile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo essentially writes an ode to tea.

He breathes in deeply, focusing his thoughts on the flow of the air through the garden, following it past the gates and into the city, feeling it fall and rise, alive and twisting, churning through narrow alleys, swirling around noodle carts and pooling in neglected alcoves. He exhales, focusing on the clouds above him, feeling the pull and push of the light and dense air, heaving against one another, building pressure and heat until they crack, fingers of fire bridging sky and earth. He breathes in again, inhaling ozone, thunder, and the sound of solid wet drops cutting through the heat, tiny oceans soaking into thirsty wood.

The chirp of laughter cuts through his meditation, and he looks over to see Genji dancing through the rain without so much as a hat. He shakes his head before getting up and lingering in the doorframe, content to watch his brother’s childlike glee. After a few moments, lightning cracks again and the rain begins in earnest, pushing his brother over to join him.

“Ni-san! Is it your storm?”

“Aren’t all storms?”

Genji laughs and rolls his eyes.

“Come on, you know what I mean!”

Hanzo smirks, his only reply as Genji dances around him a bit before he settles against the other side of the frame. He shakes his head, water flying off the neon green mop. They stand in silence for a moment, breathing in the smell of rain. The rain falls in sheets, a dull roar accompanied by the rush of tiny rivers through gutters and gullies. Thunder rumbles over them in sullen waves, filling the still air of the entryway.

“He seems like he could be a good guy, brother.”

“You are not just saying that because of his affinity for dog videos, are you?”

“What! No, of course not! Well, maybe just a teensy bit.”

Hanzo snorts, turning his head to look at his brother.

“Then what leads you to think as much?”

Genji looks away slowly, face lit by the slate glow of the storm, water bouncing the light back like polished stone. He looks naïve, his usually expressive nature calm for a single moment. Peaceful. At rest.

“I saw it in his eyes. He’s different than them. Than Deadlock. Than the clan.”

He looks back to the storm, taking in his brother’s answer. Genji always had the skill of reading people. The rain pounds down, no longer sideways, but still heavy and fat. It runs in rivulets down the hand-cut stone wall, pooling near their feet.

“You should give him a good chance, Hanzo. Trust me.”

Lightning cracks, and he looks back only to find an empty doorframe, without so much as a single drop of rain on the floor.

            ------- oOo -------

He wakes in the dark to the dull ache of his ribs and back, bleary eyed and out of time and place. He looks down, making out the blurry shape of his legs. Part of his legs.

_Ah, yes._

_Genji is dead._

He rubs his face before carefully reaching up and stretching out his spine and shoulders. They protest, stubborn and strained from the awkward position that sleeping in the wheelchair had demanded. He is slow to move the pillows back to the bed, and opts to keep the blanket for the time being.

_A little extra warmth will not harm me, I suppose._

He readjusts it before moving towards the bathroom, more than a little glad for the chance to brush his hair and teeth. He begins what once used to be a daily morning routine, pulling his hair up, brushing his teeth and washing his face. He’s just toweling off and inhaling the scent of laundry detergent when he hears a light knock on the outer door.

“Come in!”

He turns around, making his way back into the main room as the door swings open.

“Good morning Mr. Okami! I’m glad to see you awake so early! I was afraid I may have to wake you myself.”

“I am glad for the both of us that you did not. I have been told that I am most unpleasant when awoken.”

_Why do you say so much in her presence?! Be still!_

“I understand! I can be rather snappy myself before I am properly caffeinated!” Mercy looks around the room as she says it, as if looking for the substance.

_She looks tired again today._

“Now, down to business! The good news is that you have recovered enough that I do not feel the need to keep you constantly monitored, but I and Dr. O’Deorain will be coming in to take the occasional measurement and test.”

Hanzo frowns, trepidatious.

“The bad news?”

“Yes. The bad news is that you are not going to be leaving this ward for the foreseeable future. Your wounds are not fully healed, though the process has been accelerating since you regained consciousness.”

He nods, taking in the information before Mercy speaks again.

“There’s one more piece of bad news.”

“Yes?”

_They know._

“Now that you are conscious, you will be able to eat again.”

He groans.

“Hospital food?”

“Yes, hospital food.” She chuckles at his dismay, shaking her head. “It’s good for you, I promise. Now, do you prefer coffee or tea?”

 

_I would not call this bad news._

He leans over his plate, taking in another mouthful of creamy eggs topped with liberal amounts of ketchup. Mercy had looked at him strangely when he requested it, and he is glad that she had humoured him as he poured more on. The sausage was excellent as well, with just the right amount of grease.

Of course, it was all excellent compared the questionable food Deadlock had provided. Most of it had consisted of some unknown meat substance swimming in ‘crisco’ and other questionable liquids. At first, he had turned his nose up at it and refused to eat. He had broke quickly after three weeks passed without even that much.

As he finishes the last specks of egg, he restrains himself from licking the ketchup off the plate, and instead turns his attention to the part he has saved for last. He picks up the tea, pulling off the lid and removing the teabag, watching the chestnut brown liquid drip from the corners as cinnamon and clove drift through the room on tendrils of steam. He holds the cup with both hands, almost reverently, looking into the liquid.

It is far from a quality chai, and it is certainly not the tea of his choice, but it is tea. He takes a sip, moving the flavor around his tongue before letting the warmth slip down his throat and bloom in his stomach. It has been so long, it’s almost as if he is tasting tea for the first time again. He nearly cries as his memory forces him out of time and place.

            ------- oOo -------

_The sun beats down unapologetically across the sprawling desert city, blinking off metal fixtures and sun-bleached walls. It glares at the ground and sends waves of heat shimmering up into the midday sky. Even so, it is cool inside, almost cold. This is only because he is providing the room with a constant breeze as he lounges, awaiting the return of the person he and Genji have traveled so far to visit. They had written her shortly after they had received her last letter, promising that they would visit her residence in the coming year._

_As soon as they had landed in the hot, arid place, Genji had flitted off to trade and enjoy the local luxuries, promising Hanzo that he would be back before morning. He had watched him go, a smile on his face as he made his way to the palace at the center of the city. He was allowed in with only the slightest hesitance despite his unusual appearance._

**_She must have told the guards to expect us._ **

_He looks back to the water beside him, pleased to find it almost boiling. He removes it from the fire, carefully pouring it over the leaves and spices in the cup, inhaling the sweet aroma that spirals up to greet him. He is so immersed in the meditative process that he barely hears the footsteps of his approaching host._

_“Hanzo, you are finally here!”_

_He smiles, turning to properly greet his old friend._

_“I am. Genji and I nearly lost our way in this sea of dunes!”_

_She chuckles, shaking her head._

_“It can be quite confusing for visitors, I’m glad you found your way. I take it your brother is out enjoying the city to its fullest?”_

_“What else would he be doing? He asked me to give you his regards, and promised me that he would arrive here before dawn.”_

_“Of course. He is still so very young, yes?_

_“Yes. I expect nothing less of him.”_

_“You know, you could stand to join him once in a while, Hanzo. I fear you are getting far too old too quickly.”_

_He snorts and looks at her, eyebrow arched as he crosses his arms._

_“Ana, if either of us is getting old quickly, I believe it is you. I saw the massive tombs under construction on the flight here. Are you are already planning your burial? I can think of no other in this region that would deserve such a monument.”_

_She chuckles, leaning against the balcony wall, looking at him with a spark in her eye._

_“Yes, I, an immortal, constructing a massive pyramid for a tomb. No, it is a grave for the mortal rulers of this land as well as a place of worship, I believe. They are getting more and more ambitious as they grow.”_

_He hums in wordless agreement. She looks over at him, then reaches suddenly to move his sleeve._

_“What have you done to your arm? Do you need my assistance?”_

_He flinches back a moment at the memory of Ana’s unorthodox healing methods before quickly explaining himself._

_“No, no, there is no need for that. I had nearly forgotten that I have it at this point.”_

_He shrugs off one of his sleeves, revealing the design._

_“It is a permanent decoration. The humans create them by pricking themselves and rubbing in pigments. I found them rather attractive, so I have decided to mimic one.”_

_She snickers._

_“Of course you would, it’s gaudy and overstated after all._

_He snorts, looking her outfit over._

_“There is no accounting for bad taste, I suppose.”_

_“I agree. Now that we have had our jabs, what is that you are so excited to show me?”_

_Hanzo walks back to the cups, removing the leaves and spices from them. He carries the steaming drinks back to the balcony_

_“This is what I have come all this way to share in your company.”_

_“This?”_

_She takes the extended cup, peering dubiously into the liquid._

_“Is it medical?”_

_“I believe it has some medicinal properties, but it is not that quality that prompted me to bring it.”_

_She swirls the liquid again before taking a sip. She raises her eyebrows after a moment, appreciation sculpting her face._

_“This is rather good. A human invention?”_

_“Yes, I enjoy it a great deal as well.”_

_“Mmm. I can see why, especially in your climate.”_

_“It is good cold as well.”_

_Her eyes sparkle in appreciation as she holds the cup, looking out over the glittering city. He joins her, resting against the balcony and watching the human city steadily expand into the unforgiving sands. He murmurs absentmindedly._

_“They call it ‘tea’.”_

            ------- oOo -------

Hanzo spends the rest of the morning in quiet meditation. At least, it would look like quiet meditation to the outside observer. In reality, he was silently knitting himself back together and testing the barriers around his room for cracks.

_They have been terribly comprehensive. I would like to know how they managed to find and convince a Nephilim and a demon to assist them, not to mention Unseelie fey. Or is it Seelie?_

He keeps his breathing steady and his back straight, running invisible fingers over the barriers, finding every imperfection, every dip and turn in the surface until he finally finds what he is looking for. A tiny imperceptible crack that almost no spellcaster would know was a deficiency. The casters had guarded against a great variety of dragons from all reaches of the Earth, but they did not know to guard him. After all, very few outside of the clan knew of Genji and himself, much less their true nature, and even fewer could cast the spells needed to fully contain them.  

_It seems Overwatch does not associate with a great deal of crime syndicates. All the better for me. Now, when to spring? I still don’t know where I am, how many adversaries I may face, or how far I can go. I still need to build my strength, then maybe –_

His thoughts are cut short by rapping on the door.

“Come in.”

The door swings open to reveal the cowboy – Jesse – from yesterday. He’s carrying a steaming tray of food on one arm and a parcel in the other. He carefully places the tray on the side table before straightening up and tipping his hat.

“Howdy, Mr. Okami. Mercy said ya ain’t had lunch yet, so I went ahead and got some. Hope ya like tacos, ain’t what the Doc ordered, but they’re awful good. I went ahead and left the jalapenos on the side, just in case ya ain’t partial to ‘em.”

“Mmm. Are they very strong?”

Jesse seems to take the question as an invitation to make himself comfortable, spurs jingling obnoxiously as he collapses into the armchair, package still in hand.

“Well, I reckon that’s up for debate. I tend ta think they’re pretty good, definitely not too hot, but both of the Docs would disagree.”

“Hmm.”

He finishes scooping off the green mush that he supposes is guacamole, neatly distributing all of the provided peppers over the tacos. He cautiously layers on the provided salsa until it nearly bursts from the corners, folding up the tortillas as he barely stops himself from taking an impolitely large first bite. Jesse chuckles in response, raising an eyebrow.

“Good ta see ya enjoy some of the finer parts of life. I personally believe it ain’t a good taco if you don’t sweat a little.”

Hanzo nods in wordless agreement, nearly inhaling the spicy, meaty bundle. It’s absolutely heavenly, cooked to perfection and almost over seasoned, the tortilla browned and warm. The cowboy continues to prattle on.

“Little concerned ya aint touchin’ the guac though, ya gotta get some of that richness in there ta really balance the whole thing out, ya know?”

He looks towards the recliner, wrinkling his nose in distase.

“No, it would simply mix with the salsa and run out of the edges. The sour cream serves to balance on it’s own. It is also somewhat alarmingly wasabi textured and colored.”

Jesse tilts back his hat, exaggerated shock and offence scrawled across his face.

“Hey, now, that ain’t no kinda way to talk about good ol’ guacamole! It’s a mainstay of the finest of cuisines, a true culinary masterpiece!”

He snorts derisively, lowering the taco from his mouth.

“Yes, I am certain that the finest chefs in the world garnish their dishes with salty mashed avocado, displayed beside their finest ‘fried corn reductions’.”

He gestures towards the suspiciously greasy nachos that he pushed pushed to the corner of his tray, sarcasm dripping from his lips. Jesse grins, sitting up a little straighter.

“You’d better believe it, Mr. Okami. They’re definitely not dressin’ plates with wasabi, that’s certain.”

Hanzo nearly chokes on his ketchup-smothered potatoes, quickly rising to the sacrilegious statement.

“You have clearly never had fine sushi, or any other cuisine worth note!”

“Now, I have!”

Hanzo peers at him, questioning and bemused.

“Your arguments and appearance would seem to disagree, cowboy”

“ Aw, now hang up a minute! First you insult guacamole, and now me. Don’t you know not ta judge a book by it’s cover?”

He tone is jovial, and he finishes the sentence with a charming wink.

_Is he . . . no._

“I reckon ta settle this, we’re gonna have to go and get a real fancy dinner sometime. It’s the only way.”

Hanzo looks at him, deadpan.

“If I were permitted to leave, I would be happy to prove myself correct.”

Jesse looks down suddenly scratching the back of his head.

_Quick to charm, but still a jailer with a charge._

He lifts his head after a few moments occupied only by the sound of Hanzo’s fork scraping the last potatoes and ketchup off the segmented lunch tray. Fidgeting, he finally reaches for the small package.

“Got a bit sidetracked there with the discussion of fine dinin’, but I want ta give ya this. Ain’t much of nothin’, and I aint very good at wrappin’, but it’s the thought that counts, yeah? Anywho, consider it a welcome gift.”

_Odd. Perhaps another attempt to gain my trust and favor? If so, he should have looked into how to properly wrap a gift._

Hanzo reaches out, accepting the incredibly poorly wrapped parcel. He rips open the brown paper, noting the 7 eleven logo on the underside.

_Useless. They are absolutely everywhere._

After peeling back several obstinate strips of tape, he finally reaches the contents. It’s a decently sized, well-worn paperback. On the cover is the image of a ridiculous looking cowboy with a classic sci-fi ray gun beside a totally implausible hoverbike, framed by what he assumes is supposed to be a foreign planet. He raises a questioning eyebrow, peering over at the other man. He’s slightly red.

“Guns of the Unknown Quadrant?”

He looks up towards the ceiling for a moment, scratching at the back of his neck before he looks at him again.

“Yeah, I know it ain’t no work of literary genius, and I’m just guessin’ that it’s probably not yer sorta read, but it can get pretty mind-numbin’ when you’re cooped up in here with nothin’ ta do but wait for three meals and bedtime, or wait for Mercy or O’Deorain. It won’t offend me none if ya don’t read it, but I thought I might as well offer.”

“It is  . . . somewhat dull, certainly. Thank you for the gift, I will try it.”

He places the book and the now mostly empty tray on the side table, propping the novel and the card against the slowly wilting flowers. The silence between them falls softly as the cowboy fidgets in the recliner, playing with the band of his hat. It is almost childlike. Hanzo assess him over the rim of the provided glass of milk.

_He’s younger than I thought. Perhaps mid twenties? The beard makes him seem older. It’s a bit scraggly, hair as well. Hmm. He looks better in this red than that ridiculous black ensemble. Still wearing that tacky belt buckle._

His thoughts are cut short as he realizes the cowboy is looking at him, grinning ear to ear.

“Like what you see, darlin?”

He just manages to keep from snorting milk out of his nose, and instead manages to convert the motion into a derisive huff and a wave of his hand as he swallows.

“Do not flatter yourself. You have seen battle, yes?”

The cowboy’s smirk drops from his face before he collects himself to answer, leaning back in the armchair and crossing his arms.

“Well, I can’t - ”

Hanzo waves dismissively again, sighing and fighting the heat trying to rise to his cheeks. Instead, he takes another sip and slips into a well-practiced composure. He swirls the glass in one hand.

“Please, spare me the vagaries. I am certain you and your organization have already ascertained that I am far from an untrained civilian. We are both aware that we have seen conflict. Now, do you mean to tell me that you have not assessed my threat level?”

The cowboy seems to sober, slipping into a more serious tone.

_Good. Show me your true motives, not your charming act._

“I ain’t gonna lie to ya, of course I did. Still am, obviously.”

“I expect nothing less.”

“I reckon. You seem awful sharp, Mr. Okami, and I reckon you know I ain’t just droppin’ in ta chat, though I certainly don’t mind the company. But now that we’re getting’ down ta business, so ta speak, you mind if I ask you a few direct questions?”

Hanzo stares at him silently, holding himself as if he were seated in a throne of bones and jewels with a cup of fine sake instead of a ratty foldable wheelchair with a plastic glass of milk.

_“Convey strength and power when you have none and it will come.”_

_“Soooo . . .  fake it til you make it?”_

_“Genji . .  .”_

The cowboy maintains his gaze, motionless, but he’s betrayed by taut muscles and a strained neck. Hanzo remains silent, holding his eyes intently.

“Hmm. I will answer questions, but only under certain conditions.”

The cowboy tilts his head down, hat brim concealing his face slightly, the red tint of his eyes glinting. Hanzo feels the need to laugh, but keeps his face quiet as carved stone.

_Is this supposed to be intimidating? It’s missing the mark. Somewhat hot perhaps. Beautiful rough features._

He scolds his wayward thoughts as Jesse speaks.

“What kinda conditions are we talkin’ about here?”

“Nothing drastic, I assure you. If I am to give you information, I expect to be informed in return. An equivalent exchange, in a way. I will also choose which questions I wish to answer. If you push for information I do not wish to divulge, I will divulge nothing, and our exchange will close. If you do not provide me with some information in exchange, I will divulge nothing more. Do we have an understanding?”

He lets the words roll effortlessly, rumbling like distant thunder over the ocean.

_Powerful, dangerous, but not too assertive. Balance, Hanzo._

The other man raises an eyebrow, then slowly nods in agreement.

“Yeah, I reckon we do. So lets start small. Okami is not your real name, is it?”

_Trivial. It seems he_ **_is_ ** _capable of being cautious. Trained, then? Certainly not Deadlock’s style._

“No, it is not.”

He seems to relax a bit when the answer is delivered clearly and honestly.

“I didn’t figure. Translates to wolf, right? Not a whole lot of parents out there namin’ their kids somethin’ so, uh . . .”

“Cliché?”

He nods in sheepish agreement. Hanzo smirks slightly, contemplating his own question carefully. He decides to start with something fairly inconsequential as well. Inconsequential to his interrogator, at least.

“What is the year?”

Jesse blinks in surprise and tips back his hat, frowning.

“You – Nobody’s bothered ta tell ya the year?!”

“No. I have not been informed of any passage of time.”

He suddenly looks around, concerned as Hanzo answers the unstated question. He’s a bit confused by the man’s reaction. It seems terribly genuine.

“There are no timepieces in this room.”

“There certainly ain’t. Huh. Well, today is January 16, 2062.”

Hanzo furrows his brow.

“2062?”

“Yessiree. Can’t believe they ain’t got a clock in here, much less told ya the date. This is a hospital room, not a high security prison. I can try ta get somethin’ in here ta - ”

The cowboy continues to prattle on as Hanzo bites his tongue, trying to keep his composure as the world swirls around him, the edges of his vision swimming as his mind drives him to focus on the glint of the spurs. The soft light of the room seems to dim, leaving only the bright glancing of light on steel and the rolling red of flannel. He tries to draw in measured breaths.

  1. _2062\. Twelve years. Twelve years underground. How many were with the clan? Or Deadlock? Twelve years since I walked. Twelve years since Genji . . ._



The light glares off of the spurs and he feels his breath turn ragged as his ears ring

_Splatters of blood soaking into dark floors and desert dirt, red wolves dripping from the tip of single-edged blades, howling and tearing his knees open._

The spurs flash, arcing in rhythm to a slower heart.

_High pitched screeches of agony rend him, green scales scattered across a blanket of white and burgundy-black, a single feather, tattered and torn grasped between clipped claws, with two feet carried off as if they were precious jewels, glistening with navy and gold specks drenched in crimson._

The light strikes the steel and cuts through his eyes, a blade to his mind.

_The notes of a blade being unsheathed, wave after wave finely sharpened metal, slicing soft flesh decisively. The stench of curdling blood and pus weave around still damp sand._

The spurs move positions, light glancing across the sharp tongs.

_A dark halo, hand steady between them, the tolling of a church bell at noon and the dry sigh of sunbaked earth. Two small dragons draped across it’s shoulders._

The plastic glass clatters against the floor, milk moving in a slow arc, splattering across the tile. Jesse recoils slightly, confused and concerned. Hanzo blinks after a moment, the sound of plastic on tile jarring him back to the moment. He stares at the pooling milk for a moment before he looks to Jesse, equally surprised. He calms his breathing enough to speak.

“It is 2062?”

Jesse blinks in response.

“Uh, yeah. It’s 2062. How long-”

He seems to think better of the question, his voice dying off as he looks back down at the growing pool of milk. Hanzo pauses for a beat, then speaks on a whim, his voice perfectly composed.

“Twelve years.” Jesse looks at him slightly confused, tilting his head and frowning a bit. “I have been in captivity for twelve years.”

He sucks in his breath, rolling back a bit in the recliner. He takes his hat off, rubbing his head and looking at Hanzo. There are a few beats of silence as they both soak the information in, staring at the milk. The cup slowly stops rocking, refracting the dim light across the widening white puddle.

_I should not have told him, now he will use it against me. Or pity me. Yet . . ._

_“You should give him a good chance, Hanzo.”_

The words from his dream-brother echo in his mind as the cowboy leans forward, then slowly rises, placing his hat in his seat.

_I forgot how tall he is. And broad._

He ambles into the bathroom, returning a moment later with a dirty towel. He throws it over the mess, wiping it with the pointed toe of his boot. Seemingly satisfied, he nods and picks up the glass, setting it gently on the tray and placing his hat back on his head. A silent minutes ticks between the two before Hanzo finally cuts it.

“Thank you.”

Jesse seems slightly surprised by the words, then breaks in to a large, genuine smile.

“Anytime.”

_Neither pity nor mockery. It would seem I have misjudged his motives . . . Genji is a good judge of character even in death._

He lets his muscles relax slightly, pushing his shoulders back and raising his head once more, giving Jesse a small nod.

“Please, continue.”

“Ya sure?”

He arcs a single brow, cracking the slightest smile.

“Entirely.”

Jesse slowly nods, then slips back into a somewhat awkward cross between a conversational tone and a business mannerism.

“Well, uh, I ain’t gonna count the year as a proper exchange. They shoulda already told ya that. So what else would you like ta know? Within reason, of course.”

“Of course.”

He taps his fingers against the armrest of the wheelchair, gazing at Jesse contemplatively as his heart rate finally returns to normal. In light of Jesse’s treatment of his current situation, he trusts and even respects him a bit more, but he is still uncertain of Overwatch’s intentions.

_If this is Overwatch._

The dragons stir within him, his subconscious mind providing the best question.

“What was your organization’s motive for attacking Deadlock?’

The cowboy shifts in the recliner again, frowning slightly but maintaining eye contact.

“Huh. I’m honestly not sure if I’m allowed ta answer that, but I reckon I can get away with it seein’ as how you were there and all.”

He leans forward with his hands clasped, forearms pushing against his knees. He does not break the eye contact, but it’s an amiable gesture, not threatening, but not pitying.

“Long story short, we caught wind that Deadlock was expanding their turf some. After a bit of lookin’ around, we figured out they had really started dealin’ in lives, and we didn’t much care for that. We went in to get as many innocent and not-so-innocent folk out intact and alive as we could”

**_He seems to speak sincerely._ **

“Hmm. Which is how I arrived here.”

“Yeah, that’s how ya got here. That answer satisfy ya?”

“Yes.”

There is another moment of silence as the cowboy seems to consider his next question. He’s interrupted by a series of electronic buzzes, and pulls out a small black device from his pocket. He sighs, rising from the armchair and scooping up the empty lunch tray and damp towel. He shoots him a slightly apologetic smile.

_“A tall glass of water for my veeeery thirsty brother.”_

“Looks like I’m gonna have ta cut this off, duty calls.” He hesitates just a moment before continuing. “You gonna be alright alone? I can send in Mercy.”

“I am perfectly fine now, thank you.”

It was a lie, and he suspected they both knew it. To his credit, Jesse just nods in agreement.

“Allrighty. Ya mind if I bring lunch again tomorrow? It’ll be better than whatever Mercy’s got in mind for ya.”

He snorts with a small nod in reply.

“If you don’t mind spilt milk, then please, do.”

The other man lets out a hearty laugh, eyes twinkling.

“Sounds like a plan! You take care, all right?”

He’s surprised to find he doesn’t mind the slight concern.

“I shall.”

Jesse smiles a bit, nodding in affirmation and tipping his hat before turning. He watches as the door swings shut, waiting for it to close fully before he allows himself to relax. His shoulder blades ache in protest from both sleeping in the wheelchair and being held back throughout meditation and the encounter with the cowboy, not to mention the panic attack. He carefully rolls them, feeling the pop of joints and the stretch of muscle, looking absently towards phantom legs that still ache as he rolls the lingering memory of blood over his tongue.

_Perhaps I will try that paperback after all._

            ------- oOo -------

Hanzo is stirred from the paperback by yet another knock on the door, although it is much more proper than Jesse’s.

“Come in.”

As he expected, Mercy swings the door open, a tired smile plastered across her face and yet another tray in her arms.

“Good evening Mr. Okami. Jesse tells me that he will be delivering your lunch again tomorrow. I’m glad you two are getting along! I know it can be lonely in here.’

“I suppose. I would describe it as peaceful. It provides a good opportunity to meditate.”

Mercy flits around him, setting down the tray and evaluating various monitors.

“It certainly would, wouldn’t it? Perhaps I should hide away in one of our rooms to do the same!”

She laughs, marking down data in her holopad before she seems to ease to a stop, looking up to address him directly.

“Alright. Before you begin your dinner, would you mind discussing your medical situation Mr. Okami?”

He nods almost immediately, despite his exhaustion from his earlier panic.

_A good distraction._

She sits primly in the recliner Jesse had occupied earlier that day.

“I’d like to discuss your medical progress thus far as well as your future treatment. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, you are healing exceptionally well. Dr. O’Deorain informed me that we can thank your own regenerative abilities, correct?”

“Correct.”

She nods in silent affirmation, speaking in a measured bedside tone.

“I am sure you have also noticed that we have performed some reparative surgery on your residual limb. It was a necessary step, as it was highly infected and could have spread further, which would have called for more amputation.”

“I understand, and am grateful for the action. I would prefer to save as much of my limbs as possible.”

Mercy seems relieved, tension draining from her face as she nods calmly.

“Wonderful! I was afraid you may have felt it a breach of your consent! Now, we need to talk about future treatment. I understand that you are trepidatious about your current location and situation, and unfortunately, I do not have permission to inform you of anything. However, as your Doctor, I have been lobbying with those in charge of your current situation. I am happy to inform you that I can officially give you a small amount of freedom if you choose to accept it.”

He perks up slightly, but keeps his expression fairly calm and his hopes low. She smiles as she speaks, passion tinting her voice.

“I have consulted with Dr. O’Deorain, and we have both agreed that your residual limbs have healed sufficiently to begin the process of fitting and adjusting to prosthetics. Are you open to the idea?”

He blinks in slight surprise, then barely frowns. Her smile wavers slightly, and the fire dies a bit from her eyes.

_They would offer me mobility? What is the negative?_

“What would you have from me in return?”

It is her turn to blink in silence before she breaks out in heartfelt laughter. Her smile reaches her eyes.

“Well, a thank you when you are well would be nice, maybe even a card! It would be an appreciated change from my usual patients.”

He stares at her in mild disbelief, trying to interpret her response and failing. He stows the moment into his memory for further examination later.

_Not that it is likely I sleep tonight anyway. But with prosthesis, I could walk again. Run, even. They have come a long way from wood, who knows how far they have advanced in twelve years. She seems a good doctor as well._

He bows slightly, attempting not to fall out of the wheelchair for the second time that day.

“You already have my thanks for your services, and I will happily provide more if you can provide me with prosthesis for no other cost.”

She practically beams at his verbal appreciation, and he wonders how Overwatch must treat her if such a small thanks can lift her mood so much.

“You’re welcome! Now that I know you would like to pursue prosthesis, we should discuss the process. As you may know, adapting to prosthesis can be an incredibly long, strenuous, and painful process for the average being. Fortunately, I suspect your innate healing abilities should help with the pain. Your limbs also seem to have atrophied little from your time in captivity, unless you were much more muscular,” He chuckles slightly in reply, “which will also help the process. While this may cut down on the time needed to physically prepare you for a prosthesis, it will not aid you in the time needed to adjust to the weight and balance changes.”

“That is to be expected.”

She nods in agreement as she continues her enthusiastic explanation.

“Quite! You will, of course, have to attend physical therapy sessions in order to properly adapt. The time-period of your adjustment will also depend on the type of prosthetic you ultimately receive. Unfortunately, this is where our current situation enters the equation.”

_Ahh. The catch._

Her tone shifts, the words undercut with annoyance and frustration.

“As you are likely aware, Dr. O’Deorain and I, along with our employers, know very little about you or the extent of your abilities. That being said, I cannot blame your hesitance considering your former and current situation. It is hard to be forthcoming when caged under the watch of a nameless entity, regardless of how well they treat you.”

She seems to hiss the words accusatorily at someone not in the room.

“As such, we are somewhat uncertain of what sort of prosthetic would best suit your needs, or what variety may unintentionally harm you.”

“Harm me?”

She sighs slightly, nodding.

“Yes. For example, I once had a patient that was in need of a new hand. We worked through all of their measurements and needs, and constructed the prosthetic only to attach it and watch in horror as they screamed in pain and burned at the joins. It turned out that patient had chose not to inform us that they were a werewolf. The silver alloy used in the hand did not react well when connected.”

Hanzo winces slightly at the thought as the doctor shakes her head, perhaps to clear her mind, but he suspects it is an expression of her disapproval of the stupidity of her former patient.

_Is this a ploy to get me to reveal information, or just her genuine concern?_

The dragons push him towards trust for the second time that day.

“No, I cannot imagine that would be pleasant. I can inform you that you will not experience the same problems in my case. I am not sensitive to any common materials, with the exception of cashmere, but I suspect that will not be a problem.”

She chuckles, nodding.

“No, it most likely will not, though I can promise nothing! My engineer and Dr. O’Deorain have a penchant for using unusual materials. However, they are also fond of using spells, charms, and any other variety of enchantment that they see fit to use on prosthesis. Generally, when I have no information on the patient’s abilities, I try to limit them to using only physical components. I assume you would prefer unenhanced prosthesis over divulging your own information?”

He finds himself suddenly hesitating. Perhaps it is the stress of earlier events, his fledgling trust in Jesse’s sincerity, the dragons’ insistence, or even the calming, almost too-pleasant aura surrounding Mercy. She seems to notice his confliction, her head tilting slightly in concern. He almost answers her before she speaks.

“Mr. Okami?”

He pauses.

“May I think it over?”

She freezes in place for a moment, closes her mouth, and then opens it to speak again, pleasantly surprised.

“Of course! There is absolutely no need for a prompt reply! Just to be clear, however, you are still interested in some form of prosthetic?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Excellent! I will schedule you for an evaluation and measurement, then! It may take a few days to prepare, but I should be able to manage it within the week.”

She suddenly straightens after her statement and starts digging through the pockets of her lab coat.

“I nearly forgot! Jesse spoke with me earlier and mentioned that your rooms lacks of a clock.”

She rises from the recliner, finally pulling out a small oval disk, which she places on the side table in front of the flowers. She presses a button and the time, date, and a few alarm options appear above it in a sky blue holographic projection.

“There! This room is starting to look a little more welcoming already! I’m sure you’ve guessed, but Dr. O’Deorain will be attending you tomorrow, and will be more than capable of answering any question you may have about the prosthetic process. I do have to warn you that she may seem a bit . . .  overenthusiastic. Prostheses are something of a specialty of hers. Now, is there anything else you need before I leave?”

He is about to decline, then an irresistible thought crosses his mind.

“Actually, yes. May I have a cup of Chamomile tea?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Once again, a massive round of applause is in order for Krill, my might editing, beta-reading angel, saving both you and I from my horrible spelling and grammar errors. I'd also like to thank you guys for your lovely comments, I'm honestly reeling over the genuine enjoyment you guys seem to get out of this monstrous thing that spews out of my brain. Fortunately, my writer's block took a short break, and I have my buffer back, so hopefully the updates will come a smidge faster! Thanks again, and enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/k0kQy5u)  
> https://imgur.com/k0kQy5u


	11. Crying over spilt milk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse tries to process some things.

_He tips back slowly, rests for a moment, then lets inertia take him forward again, repeating the process over and over. The porch swing creaks in rhythm, accompanied by the tones of empty-bottle wind chimes, barely denting the hot silence of the sweeping dusty ranch. It’s too flat, all scrub with no curve to the white and brown horizon, no shadows and no sun. There isn’t even a breeze as he swings, though the bottles chime anyways._

_He tips back again, watching the unsettlingly flat horizon as a shape appears, moving towards him. A train, he realizes, too clear and quiet, like a soundless illustration. It’s racing towards him, towards the bottles and the swing and the porch._

_The swing tilts forward again, he pushes it back. The train is speeding up._

_Back and forth, the bottles begin to rattle_

_Back and forth, and he can smell the exhaust_

_Back and forth, and it towers over the porch_

_Back and –_

Jesse wakes up in a cold sweat to the buzz of his com and the soft light of his cactus shaped alarm clock. He stills for a moment, waiting for the world to settle as he stares at the ceiling, his mind trying to catch up with reality. The glow lights up the plaster and paints, glancing softly off a cobweb he hadn’t noticed up in the corner.

He’s just dozing off again when his com buzzes twice in a row and the memory of the last night catches up to him. He jolts up, snatching it off the tiny bedside table and rolling on to his feet. It buzzes again as he flicks it open and grabs some relatively fresh clothes off the top of his hamper, approving them for use with a quick sniff..

Hunter: Are you awake yet?

Hunter: Wake up.

Hunter: You’d better not be hung over.

Hunter: You’d also better get your ass to the lunchroom, you owe Fred a huge apology, and if you aren’t here to deliver before he leaves, I’m going to seal you in my most dizzying pocket dimension until you can’t tell your fucking hat from your boot.

_Shit, got ‘em madder n’ a hornet. Better hurry up, don’t care ta lose track of my stomach again. Shoulda known, wish those two’d just do us all a favor and get together already, they’re so blind to it it hurts._

He pulls his boots up in rush as he staggers down the hallway towards the mess hall, momentarily blinded by cruel fluorescent lighting. He rushes past familiar chuckling faces, feet pounding against the unforgiving concrete floors. He  nearly runs head first into the wide swinging doors of the mess, breath ragged from the all out sprint.

_Probably some kinda record time._

It takes him less than a second to reorient himself and find his friends, his attention drawn to their table by the prickling sensation of Hunter staring daggers into the back of his head.

He grins nervously and waves to the table as he walks over, a bit quicker than his usual nonchalant swagger. Moira shoots him a loaded look, and the twins fix him with shit eating grins. Hunter frowns and drags him down by his sleeve into the empty chair bedside them, leaning in and hissing in his ear. It’s quite the contrast to their usual soft-spoken lilt.

“I would say I’m glad you made it, but I’m a little disappointed that I’m not shoving you into the magical equivalent of a vomitron right now, but I may do it anyways if you don’t apologize to Fred like your life depends on it. Understood?”

“Christ Hunter -”

They glare at him like he prematurely drank their latest breakthrough potion as they tug a little more threateningly on his sleeve. He leans back and throws his free hand up.

“Fine, I hear ya!”

The twins are snickering, and Moira is openly chuckling at his situation. Hunter nods sharply and  relinquishes his sleeve. They sit up straight again, face leveling into their typical disinterested expression.

“Here he comes now.”

Fred plonks down heavily in the seat beside him with a steaming plate full of falafel and couscous, a exaggerated frown plastered across his usually cheery face. He puts down an extra plate full of tacos in front of Jesse before he points his fork at his face.

“Now Jesse, aboot last night-”

Jesse cuts him off, leaning forwards with his words spilling out in a tumble.

“Listen Fred, I’m terrible sorry about last night! I know I shouldn’t’ve tricked ya inta runnin’ off and leavin’ me on duty, and I’m mighty sorry for shiftin’ inta ya ta get past security, and I’m sorry Gabe blew up yer com for it and I’m sure ya gotta write a report now and deal with shit from security and -”

He’s wringing his hat in his hands as the twins snicker and Hunter glares two holes in the back of his skull. Fred frowns even more, scratching his chin in consideration, mischief in his eyes.

_C’mon Fred, please, I’m real sorry and also don’t wanna puke today!_

“ – I promise I’ll make it up to you! You know I don’t break promises, Fred! Listen, I’ll do yer laundry fer the next month r’ anythin’ like that ya want me to! Just name it, I’ll make up for it!”

He begins to grin as Jesse gets more frantic, and he can barely contain a groan as he realizes that was exactly what Fred was waiting for.

_Wonder what he’s gonna want ta make this even. Glad it’s him and not Moira._

Fred finally opens his mouth, an amused twinkle in his eye.

“I was just aboot to say good job on getting some info oot of them, but since you _insist_ on making it up to me - ” he grins widely, teeth a little sharper than they should be – “then you’re just going to owe me one, ya know?”

_Hoo boy, a blank check, huh? Dammit Fred, ya just gotta be smart when it don’t help me, huh?_

He smiles and nods, extending a hand that’s met with confidence.

“You got it!”

Fred grins and gives his hand a firm, if somewhat bony, shake. Moira chuckles from across the table.

“Oi’m sure he won’t soon forget that promise, Jesse.”

Hunter mumbles under their breath.

“ _I_ certainly won’t.”

After a bit of quick analysis, he decides he’d rather talk to Moira than respond to that little quip. He motions towards her, taco in hand.

“Ya found out anythin’ from Okami’s new data?”

She pulls her mayonnaise-drowned sandwich away from her face with a frustrated huff, her frown almost comically exaggerated.

“Yes and no, Oi suppose.” She begins to talk with her hands as the toppings drip slowly onto her plate. “While many of the points line up with my previous data, they are still absurd when compared to the average data for every single species Oi have on record! The lower end of it matches up fairly well with traditional eastern Asian summoning, but the higher end of his frequency is more in tune with northern Eurasian storm spirits. That led me to believe that he may simply be a very talented summoner, perhaps with a storm spirit somewhere farther back in his lineage. However, Dr. Zeigler has reported that his DNA is more closely aligned with the descendants of Oni. In other words, the data has simply created more problems than answered them.”

She bites into her sandwich after concluding her thoughts, only to look at it in disgruntled disappointment as she realizes all the fillings have fallen out. Jesse simply nods, absorbing the new information before commenting.

“Sounds like it’s kind’v’a wild goose chase.”

She reassembles her sandwich, humming in agreement. Suddenly, she looks towards him with a certain level of urgency.

“Oh, Oi had nearly forgotten. You’d best eat quickly, Dr. Zeigler requested Oi have you deliver lunch to your favourite patient, although Oi don’t know why she couldn’t ask you herself. Her work must _be too important_ to bother taking _a moment_ to message you.” She rolls her eyes in exasperation as she wipes mustard off her hands. “She has him on the b.r.a.t. diet, but Oi assume you won’t be following that.”

Jesse nods in affirmation, scooping the last of his tacos into his mouth with renewed vigor. Nick looks towards him with a mischievous smirk, timing his quip just right.

“So Jess’s got a lunch date with his new boyfriend?”

He chokes on the particularly ambitious bite, coughing up sour cream and peppers as the table snickers. Hunter whacks him hard across the back as he hacks. Finally, he clears his airways with a huff, glaring at the twins.

“Fer the last time, he ain’t my boyfriend and I aint got no crush! I’m just tryin’ ta be a decent fella and give the poor man some company. Yall know how lonely it can get in the medbay.”

_Right? It’s just being decent, yeah? I mean, it’s just a bonus that he’s smart, mysterious, and hot, but there ain’t nothin’ there._

 

_Shit._

Hunter chuckles slightly, raising an eyebrow.

“We also know how lonely you get without someone, Jesse, and it’s been a while since you’ve been with anyone, hasn’t it?” They take a sip of their jet-black coffee before they shrug with a smirk. “But I suppose that’s none of my business.”

He barely holds in a few choice comments on Hunter’s own ‘loneliness’ and it’s possible solutions in favor of not being shoved into a nasty magical funhouse. Instead, he packs down another taco before getting up to get another tray.

“Yeah yeah, tease away. Yall are just jealous that I get ta miss the start of after lunch trainin’. Heard that Ms. Amari’s gonna be runnin’ it this afternoon.”

He smirks  as all of the bravado drains from the twins’ faces and Fred groans loudly. He waves back towards them all as he saunters towards the dish return.

“Good luck yall. I’ll see ya later, if ya make it through trainin’, that is!”

He tips his hat and ducks out of view to a chorus of loud groans and “Fuck you too”, and dumps his dishes, chatting with the staff as he loads up another plate to go, a bit of satisfaction at turning the tables.

_Wonder if he does spicy? Better put the peppers on the side just in case. Hope he likes TexMex, actually, Didn’t think of that. Aw, hell, everybody likes TexMex!_

Scooping up a generous serving of the jalapenos, he drops them into one of the many tray sections before trotting out of the cafeteria towards the med bay, whistling a tune that used to play on the jukebox in a dusty Texas diner. It’s slow and a little romantic, though the lyrics are lost to him. He smiles, suddenly turning towards his room with something nice in mind.

_Does get awful lonely and boring in there, could probably stand some entertainment. Hope he don’t mind bad paperbacks._

\------- oOo -------

He pulls the door shut, fighting the urge to look back and make sure Okami was alright. Instead, he forces himself to take a step forwards, and then another, his mind reeling with emotion and questions as he walks towards Gabe’s office. The message had said to meet him there in half an hour.

_Probably about this auction situation. Been hopin’ I could stop thinkin’ bout it, but this ain’t exactly what I had in mind fer distraction. Twelve fucking years. Christ. How in the hell – No wonder he’s got trust problems and shit. I’d be keepin’ ta myself or tryin’ ta kill everything too. Twelve years. Didn’t know the year._

The heels of his boots click on the polished concrete, followed by the quiet clink of his spurs. It matches the rhythm of his heart.

_Exchange of information and he wants to know what year it is. Fuck. We’re supposed to be the good guys. We pulled him out of that hole, but he’s still in a damn prison, and we ain’t doin nothin’ for his mind and – Gotta get that man a clock. At least a clock. Bet Ange can. Need ta have a chat with’ er ‘bout it all anyways, I reckon._

He turns on his heel, now walking with purpose towards the doctor’s personal setup, thoughts and emotions stewing. He pulls out his com, replying to Gabe’s message.

Jesse: Gotta report to Ange real quick, might be more like forty. That all right, jefe?

Gabe: Yeah, don’t want to deal with an angry Angela.

Jesse: Hear hear.

He finally reaches the well-sealed doors, knocking a bit louder than was really needed.

_Can’t believe I thought he was checkin’ me out. Need ta get ahold of yerself, Jesse, don’t need ta be provin’ everyone right about this crush thing._

His weight shifts to fall on his right, leaning on one leg as he knocks again. A muffled voice barks, high and sharp.

“I said I was coming!”

The door clicks and opens with a swish of air to reveal a disgruntled and tired Angela with a few more eyes and way more floating rings than she usually sports. She shimmers and shifts almost immediately when she registers the face of her interrupter, smiling and phasing into the decidedly pretty human woman form he’s used to seeing her in.

“Jesse! Did you take Mr. Okami his lunch?”

He tips his hat, nodding, now only slightly disturbed after all these years by Angela’s truer physical characteristics.

“Just like the doctor ordered. Mind if I come in? We need ta chat.”

She frowns slightly, but nods and steps to the side, sweeping her arm out into the open room.

“Not at all, Jesse. Make yourself comfortable.”

He walks in and surveys the ever-changing landscape of Angela’s lab before deciding to try his luck sitting on a mostly-clear countertop across from a well-loved rolly chair, patched with fraying duck tape. As he suspected, she settles on it, neatly crossing her legs and sitting up with impeccable posture, swiveling to face him.

“What happened?”

He fidgets a bit, hand playing with the cuff of his sleeve instead of reaching for the cigar he desperately wants to smoke.

_She’d bite my head off if I lit one here._

“Well, I brought him his lunch like ya asked, and he ate almost all of it. Moira was a bit frustrated at playin’ the messenger, by the way.”

Angela chuckles as means of a satisfied reply, waving for him to continue.

_Two’re more passive aggressive than a room fulla politicians, I swear._

“Thought you mighta done that ta get a rise outta her. Anyway, Okami’s a bit of a picky eater. We got ta chattin’ ‘bout food preferences, and I gave him a crappy old novel ta pass the time, figure it’s better than nothin’.”

She watches him intently, nodding in agreement with the last statement.

“Certainly! Any quality of entertainment will be good for him, I’m sure!”

He gives a final yank to the cuff of his sleeve before he drops it and tilts his hat back instead.

“Yeah, that’s what I figured. Anyhow, we got ta talkin’ and all, real trivial, but he got serious and proposed we start up a proper exchange of info.”

She perks up, somehow sitting even straighter.

“That is excellent news! I was afraid that something had gone wrong the way you’re acting!”

He shakes his head and her face falls a bit.

“Did you actually get any information?”

“Yeah, sure did. I went ahead and started the exchange, asked him if Okami was his real name. A softball, ya know?”

She nods lightly, concerned.

“Well, he told me straight that it weren’t, then he asked me what year it was. Took me back a bit, figured y’all’d’ve told him the date, but I went on and let him know, then told him I’d see about getting him a clock. Didn’t realize he was havin’ problems ‘til he dropped his cup.”

She leans forward, grabbing a holopad to write down notes, troubled.

“Can you describe how he acted?”

He tilts his head forward, shaking it with a bit of a grimace.

“I didn’t really catch a lot, I was runnin’ my trap like nothin’ was wrong and looking fer a clock. What I did see, he had ragged breathin’ and that far-off look. You know the one.”

_The one where ya ain’t here and now, and somethin’ ain’t goin’ well fer ya._

It lay unspoken and understood between them. Angela nods once in affirmation, tapping away at her holopad.

“How long did it appear to take him to recover his composure?”

Jesse leans back on his arms, chewing his lower lip and staring at the ceiling.

“Well, reckon it took about a minute fer him ta talk. He asked the year again first, I repeated, and almost opened my big mouth ta ask him about it before I thought better. Then he just sorta blurted out.”

He looks at Angela, his anger and frustration and empathy straining his tone.

“Said ‘Twelve years’. He’s been locked up fer twelve years, Ange. More’n a decade. Longer than I’ve worked here.”

Angela simply sits for a moment, processing his statement before looking down at her holopad and entering the note. She peers back up at Jesse, a misleading calm settling over her.

“That is a long time. I’m surprised he’s in such good condition, considering.”

He lets out a quiet hum, letting his emotions and thoughts form before continuing.

“Yeah, me too. I know it ain’t really my field and all, but I think he’s something real different. Moira told me she ain’t havin’ any luck with the data, and that you ain’t had none either. He seems like somethin’ even we don’t deal with day to day ta me.  Anyway, he seemed ta spring back pretty quick after that. He asked ta keep goin’ with the questions, and I answered one before Gabe buzzed me.”

She smiles slightly, raising an eyebrow.

“And yet you are here with me, and not with Gabe?”

He grins and winks.

“Aw, now Ange, ya know you’ve got top priority ‘round here. But I went ahead and took my leave. He said he’d like it if I brought lunch again tomorrow, though.”

He leaves the last sentence open, an unspoken ‘please’.

“Then I suppose you’ll just have to take it to him again tomorrow. I’m sure Gabriel won’t mind after you share your leaps and bounds of progress with him. Now, I have suspected for some time that Mr. Okami has not seen freedom in some time and was in a poor mental state. With your statement and the footage, I’m sure I will now be able to prove as much.”

Jesse tilts his head slightly.

“What does that mean overall?”

_How much will they let ya get away with?_

“Well, for one thing, it means that I can now provide Mr. Okami with a clock, as it will help stabilize his mental state. I should also be able to provide him some additional small luxuries in order to help him improve.”

He lifts his head slightly, a tinge of relief and happiness beginning to replace the aftertaste of his talk with Okami. Angela’s tone shifts with his mood.

“If I really ‘push the envelope’, so to speak, I may be able to justify getting him into prosthetics. I’ll need O’Deorain to sign off on them as well, but I am certain that she’ll jump at the chance to fit a new patient, especially one as ‘interesting’ as Mr. Okami.”

He chuckles, nodding in agreement.

“Reckon she wouldn’t pass that one up fer a million bucks. Well, I’m glad ta hear that you can do somethin’ fer him. The more we can do for him, the more likely he is ta open up. Good fer everybody.”

“Absolutely!” She nods once decidedly, then pushes her chair back as she stands. “Well, if there is nothing more to report, I will review the footage of your exchange and begin the process of re-determining patient needs versus protocol.”

Jesse nods, pushing his hat back and sliding off the counter.

“Sounds good! I’m gonna head on and fill Gabe in. Good luck, Ange.” He starts to walk out with a tip of his hat, then pauses for a moment. “And thanks.”

She smiles.

“Anytime, Jesse.”

            ------- oOo -------

“And you’re sure he wasn’t lying?”

Jesse shakes his head, fidgeting once again in the same uncomfortable fold-out chair from the night before. Jack frowns as he says it, perched somewhat precariously on the edge of Gabe’s desk. Gabe seems far less interested, leaned back slack in his desk chair, arms crossed.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure, what with the physical reaction and the way he blurted it out. Pretty raw, not thought out. Would be some oscar winnin’ acting.”

Gabe tilts his head in agreement.

“Seems like it. If he is telling the truth, then twelve years lines up with the reported death and documented disappearance of the Shimada brothers. Still hard to say anything for certain without more than that.”

Jack hums in thought.

“Twelve years, though, that’s longer than you’ve been here, right Jesse?”

Jesse nods, tilting his hat back to meet the bright blue eyes. To his credit, Jack doesn’t flinch away.

“Mmmhmm. I’ve been here about eight or so.”

“Right. And Deadlock wasn’t holding him at the time you left, right?”

Gabe nods, understanding where Jack’s going.

“Naw, weren’t holdin’ nobody at the time.”

“So, we can conclude that Mr. Okami, if he is telling the truth, was held elsewhere before being held at Deadlock.”

Jesse nods in agreement with a bit of a frown, confused.

“Well, I reckon.”

Gabe is grinning slightly as he sits up, beaming at Jack as he continues.

“Then he had to have been moved from one place to another, right?”

_Oh! Sure did, and if he moved -_

“Yeah! And that means there’s a trail _somewhere_.”

Gabe smirks.

“Si, and I know just the person to find it. I’ve already got them looking into the auction, so at least I’ll be able to bundle this into the cost of services.”

_Ah, definitely Sombra, then. Only person we still bother to pay fer info, I think. Yeah, they’ll track somethin’ down in no time._

“In the meantime, you can keep getting information the old-fashioned way, Jessito.”

He grins, leaning back and tilting his hat forward.

“With my dashin’ good looks and cavalier charm?”

Jack snorts and Gabe chuckles, shaking his head.

“That and your ego, cabron. Anything else we need to know right off?”

“Naw, I reckon that’s all I’ve got ta report. I’m guessin’ ya wanted me here ta talk about the auction situation?”

The two nod in near unison as Jack pipes up.

“Yup. Gabe’s contact’s already dug up some more information. All good news at the moment, relatively speaking. The best news is that the auction has been delayed by a month and a half. It’ll be held on April first.”

Jesse frowns in doubt.

“On April Fools?”

“So it would seem. Someone out there has a twisted sense of humor, huh?”

“Yeah. Moira’ll get a kick outta that.”

Gabe nods, snorting, before picking up for Jack.

“Oh yes. Now the other relatively good new is that we have a continent for the location, specifically Asia.”

“Gee, that sure does narrow things down.”

Jack laughs, nodding in agreement as Gabe shrugs.

“It’s better than nothing, hijo.”

“Guess so. We got anyone else lookin’ inta this thing?”

“Yeah, a few agents here and there, but you know how that goes.”

He and Jack nod in agreement.

_Slower than molasses. Som may charge a pretty penny, but at least they’re quick._

Jack chimes in.

“So that’s the current situation. Unfortunately, I’m gonna have to take my leave now, I’ve got a conference call to catch in half an hour with Vishkar.”

“Mmm, good luck with that.”

Jack grimaces.

“Thanks, I’ll need it. Talking to them is like having graduate level essays read aloud at you in your third language.”

Gabe chuckles.

“At least when you’re talking to them above the board. They prefer to use simple four-letter words with us.”

The three of them laugh, Jesse nodding in agreement with the truth of it. As the laughter dies, Gabe swivels his head and gives Jesse a look.

_Uh oh._

“Allright. If you’re heading out, Jesse and I need to go do some training. Ana’s already working with the rest of the team.”

He groans in half-mocked and half-sincere dread as Gabe cracks and ornery smile, sidling out from behind his desk.

“We’ve got a new set of exercises with your name on them, Jesse.”

“Well, ain’t I just a lucky fella?”

The chair creaks in protest as he pushes himself up, turning to open the door for the commanders.

“After you, ladies.”

Jack grins, going through without missing a beat, and sweeping his coat behind him dramatically.

“I prefer the title of Queen, thank you.”

Gabe leans against the doorframe and snorts, loud and ugly before he dissolves into a fit of wheezing as Jesse simply stands there with his mouth hanging open, watching Jack wave as he struts down the hall, long blue trench coat trailing behind him like a cape. He turns to Gabe, shaking his head in dismay.

“You sure do know how ta pick ‘em, don’tchya?”

A wide, warm grin spreads across Gabes face as he nods, watching the retreating baby-blue figure.

“I sure do, don’t I?”

He continues to stare for a little longer than necessary. Jesse snorts, and prods him towards the door.

“C’mon, jefe, ya got a team ta torment with cruel ‘n unusual exercises, remember?”

He sighs dramatically.

“Well, if you insist . . .”

Jesse jokingly backpedals, waving his hands as he back out of the door.

“Aw, now, forget I even said anythin’! By all means, continue starin’ at Jack’s ass! I’ll just be on my way towards my room!”

Gabe cackles a bit and gives him a light smack upside the head, closing the door behind them as they make their way down the halls.

“You’re not getting off the hook that easily, kid.”

He grins in mock shame.

“Can’t blame a fella fer tryin’, can ya?”

His plea is met with a chuckle and smiling eyes. They walk in a comfortable silence, strolling towards the Blackwatch training facilities without a hint of urgency.

_How’d I ever think Deadlock was a family? Guess I just never knew what one felt like. Wonder if Okami’s got family somewhere. Maybe not, probably would be tryin’ ta find him. Mmm. Maybe he’ll be able ta join us. Wouldn’t mind the addition._

Images of him and the team laughing with Okami swim across his mind, his family expanded. He hardly notices that they’ve arrived before he’s greeted by an enthusiastic bellow.

“JESSE, GABRIEL! VE HAVE BEEN EXPECTING YOU!”

Before he can answer, they’re scooped into a large sweaty bear hug. He laughs as his hat falls backwards from the motion.

“Howdy Rein! Good ta see you too!”

Ana chuckles, smiling at the trio.

“I see you’ve finally arrived! You are late, Gabriel.”

Gabe nods, squirming his way out of the deathgrip hug.

“Sorry about that, Ana. Jesse had more to report than I had expected.”

She nods in understanding, turning her attention towards him.

“What were you reporting on?”

Gabe interrupts him just as he opens his mouth to answer.

“It’s a little complicated, but he’s been working with a sort of special case collecting information. I’ll fill you in on all the details in our meeting with Jack tomorrow evening, he and I should have some more information by then from my contact in Mexico.”

She frowns and shakes her head.

“You seem to rely on that contact quite a bit, Gabriel.”

He shrugs, and Ana gives him a loaded look before continuing.

“Well then, if we are finished with niceties, let’s get to work. I’ve got a new exercise that I am dying to run with your team.”

Her eyes glint dangerously, as she almost purrs out her request. Gabe grins with an equally dangerous look.

“Then let’s get started!”

            ------- oOo -------

He groans as he rolls his shoulder, the tension and ache of his muscles melting under the stream of steaming hot water. It shoots from the shower head in a tight arch, tiny rivulets of relief running over his back and pooling in the bottom of the tub. He watches the drops on the walls run slowly, colliding with one another to form larger and larger drops until they run rapidly down to the tub and join the main stream. The light plays across the flowing water, glistening in the glow of the diffused fluorescent ring that buzzes almost inaudibly above him.

His mind melts under the white noise of a thousand tiny raindrops and the hum of the overhead fan kicking in. His subconscious reviews his day, skipping through the training session. It had been rigorous, starting with a warm-up run, then cardio, weights, and unique training scenarios. They had been unpredictable and quite the challenge for the team, each one designed with some of their weaknesses in mind. The back of his head still throbs slightly from the impact of him shifting into a low beam in close quarters.

_Gotta be more aware of how I’m gonna move in a space when I’m shiftin’. She sure got that across._

He sighs, picking up his washcloth and starting to lather up, his thoughts still drifting.

_Hope things go better with Okami tomorrow. Seems like every time I get near him, somethin’ goes wrong. Guess today was better though. Shoot, may even be good in the long run since Ange can treat his mental state now. Sure hope she can get him inta some prosthetics. Give him some piece of mind, may open up a bit more. Be nice ta know a bit more about him. Least I hope so. Seems ta be a nice enough fella._

He rinses and shuts the water off, stepping out of the tub and toweling down. He runs his fingers through his wet hair absentmindedly.

_Seems ta like ta keep his hair up, too. Maybe I could get him somethin’ ta keep it up with, bandage ain’t the best thing fer that. Wonder if I should grow my hair out ta match my beard?_

He runs his hand over his beard, attempting to smooth it into submission to no avail. It springs back up immediately, flaring out around his mouth. Shrugging, he pulls on his comfiest pair of sweatpants and a bright red T-shirt with “See you space cowboy” and the outline of a smoking cigarette emblazoned across the front.  With a bit of an effort, he pulls himself off the counter and into his room and sprawls out lazily in his desk chair. He pauses over his holoscreen before flicking open the file labeled “Okami”.

The program asks him if he’d like to pick up where he left off twenty hours ago, and he clicks yes, shifting to the end of the documents. He edits the section labeled facts.

‘Twelve years in captivity, moved location at least once.’ and then ‘Has some form of PTSD.’

He pauses, staring at the blinking line for a moment before typing again.

‘Likes to keep his hair up.’

He scrolls back through the document, looking over all the potentially related information.

_Yeah, Gabe’s right. Twelve years seems ta match up with when the Shimada brothers fall off record, and he definitely seems ta fit the physical descriptions. He has all the trainin’ ta be a yakuza boss. Least, carries himself like he does. Hmm._

He leans back and rubs his eyes, sighing. Pulling himself up from his chair, he turns off the lights and locks his door before slipping into bed and pulling up the coarse standard issue blankets.

_Better than nothing, ‘specially here in Switzerland. Hope Okami’s, or Shimada, or whoever he is, is all right, med bay’s pretty cold ta begin with. Yeah, think I’ll get him somethin’ ta put his hair up with next time I’m off base. Maybe a hoodie or jacket. Can’t see him in a regular hoodie, though. He seems so refined. Could use something though . . ._

He drifts into dreams of black hair and glowing dragons against a backdrop of silk and spilled milk sentiments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Once more, we owe a great deal of thanks to the one and only krill for beta-ing this whole situation. I also owe you guys a big thank you for your continued support and enjoyment! :D I know this chapter is a bit less exciting than the past couple, but it's a necessary calm before a storm, I promise. I hope you guys are having a great week, and good luck with finals to any university students out there! 
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> [](https://imgur.com/HuExu4i)  
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> https://imgur.com/HuExu4i


	12. Questionable Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo and Jesse partake in another awkward lunch date.

A sharp rap on the door pulls him from deep dreamless sleep, exhaustion weighing heavily on his eyelids and head. He closes them and drifts a bit more only to be pulled to full consciousness by a more insistent knock. He pushes his head up, and is immediately rewarded with the searing pain down his neck and across his shoulders. Groaning, he shifts the blankets and pillows from the wheelchair to the bed. He yawns before pushing back his hair and calling out with a dusty morning voice.

“Come in.”

The door swings open with vigor, and he gets his first look at the hall outside of the room.

_ Cream walls, tiled ceiling, polished concrete floors, and a blue and yellow rubber baseboard. Overwatch colours, yet more proof. _

Dr. Odeorain sweeps through the door with a giant, slightly unnerving, grin filling her face, a steaming tray of breakfast and a lumpy tote bag in her arms. It has a large screen-print of David Bowie across it in an obnoxiously bright pink. She nearly sings her greeting.

“Good morning, Mr. Okami! Oi’ve brought your breakfast and a few other things.”

She sets the tray down on the side table with vigor, nearly spilling the large cup of tea.

_ She seems to be in high spirits. How . . . unsettling. _

“Mercy informed me that you seem to like tea, so Oi brought a large cup of Irish breakfast, the  _ superior  _ blend of breakfast tea.” She chuckles at what he can only assume is an inside joke before she continues. “Oi have also brought you a change of clothes and a few other small amenities. Mercy has also informed me that you have decided to pursue prosthetics!”

She places the tote bag beside his chair, pulling out a holopad and folding into the recliner, beaming at him. He pushes his hair back again before giving a single nod of affirmation.

“Yes, I have.” He pauses for a moment, his brain still foggy from sleep. He gently lifts the cup from the tray, but pauses before taking a sip. “Does it have milk?”

O’Deorain almost looks offended.

“Of course! And sugar! Has Mercy been serving it any way else?”

He chuckles and nods before taking a long swig. It’s very sweet and creamy, almost too hot.

_ Perfect. For a breakfast tea, at least _

She shakes her head in dismay.

“Oi don’t know why Oi expected any else, that woman has no respect for tea. While Oi myself am an avid drinker of coffee, Oi can still appreciate a good cup of tea.”

He hums in agreement, watching her over the rim of the cup. Her posture is far from perfect, unlike Mercy, and their auras are miles apart. While he can’t seem to pin down Mercy, he’s almost certain that O’Deorain is some variety of fair folk.

_ Unusual for them to take part in an international peace-keeping organization. _

She gives him a knowing smirk, almost as if she could read his mind.

“Now, Oi know that Angela has given you the basic information on the prosthetic process. She mentioned that you may wish to divulge some of your information in order to personalize them to your needs.”

He nods slowly, taking a small bite of the scrambled eggs which he has, once again, topped with liberal amounts of ketchup. He’s pleasantly surprised to find that they are laid over a bed of rice this morning.

“I am considering it, yes.” She leans forward a bit, waiting with barely concealed giddy anticipation. “However, I have yet to gather my thoughts. I’m afraid I have just woke, and I do not wish to convey anything crucial with a foggy mind.”

She barely manages to mask her disappointment.

“Oi see. Regardless, there is no rush. Perhaps we could discuss it over dinner?”

He raises an eyebrow, peering into her eager eyes.

_ Definitely fey. _

“Perhaps.” He pauses suddenly, looking down at the food and frowning. “Did you prepare this?”

She looks slightly surprised, and then cackles heartily, wiping away a small tear.

“No, I did not! You needn’t fear taking food from me, I assure you it is all too human. Oi’m a terrible chef, you’d know if I had made it by the distinctive aroma of smoke.”

He chuckles, taking another bite of what he supposed was an attempt at omurice. O’Deorain types away on her holopad for a few moments before looking up to address him once more.

“Mercy has just informed me that you have an appointment for fitting in two days. I assume you would still like to attend?”

“Yes, I would.”

She nods, grinning.

“Very well. If you are not currently inclined to discuss anything else, Oi’ll be taking my leave. Jesse will be bringing your lunch, and Oi your dinner.” She rises from the chair slightly awkawardly, unfolding her long, crossed legs. She strides towards the door, holopad in hand. “Goodbye, Mr. Okami.”

He nods in affirmation, mouth full as she shuts the door. Eating slowly, he waits as his mind wakes, slowly rolling into thought.

_ The chamomile tea worked wonders. I cannot remember the last time I have slept so well. _

He takes another sip of the breakfast tea, enjoying the flavor. Perhaps his time in captivity has changed his palate. In the past, he’d always found the English and Irish breakfast teas too bitter and aggressive for his taste. He sighs as his fork hits the bottom of the tray, his breakfast finished.

Curious, he peers into the tote bag beside him. In it is more toothpaste, fresh towels, and a change of clothes. He pulls them out, folding them neatly and placing them in his lap. The little clock reads 9:05.

_ Lunch is still a great ways off. Hmm. I should brush my hair. Perhaps I could attempt some sort of exercise now that I have fresh clothes? I wonder how much my knees can handle. _

Shaking his head, he makes his way into the bathroom, going through his new morning routine, happily adding in the toothpaste. After re-tying his hair, he navigates to the edge of the shower, and examines the curtain rod.

_ It seems sturdy enough. Now, can I? _

Cautiously, he locks the chair and braces his hands on the armrests, slowly lifting himself until his weight rests on his knees and residual limbs. They ache and sting in protest, but he bears it, reaching up with one hand and successfully grabbing the curtain rod. It holds and he grins, then quickly grabs on with his other hand, now fully suspended.

_ Perfect! _

He pulls himself up with more effort than he remembers, the familiar tug of his muscles comforting. It’s still fairly easy. He pulls up, chin fully above the bar before lowering himself carefully. Once, up and then back down, twice, up and then back down, thrice, up and then back down . . .

He’s in process of doing push-ups and planks off the edge of the wheelchair when the knock comes from the door. He pauses, awkwardly negotiating himself back into his seat. Sweat drips from his nose as he towels off his face. He looks at his clock and is surprised to find that it is 1 in the afternoon.

_ Lost track of time, and now I look a wreck. I should have showered. _

“Come in.”

The cowboy pushes the door open, a tray in each hand and, to Hanzo’s surprise, equally sweat-drenched. He chuckles.

“I was going to apologize for my state, but I believe I have no need to.”

Jesse looks at him in surprise, and then laughs, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, same here! Good ta see ya up and doin’, though.”

Hanzo nods in agreement, throwing the towel over the back of the chair before assessing the trays. Jesse continues to prattle on as he passes one to him and sits on the edge of the recliner, tray on his lap. They both have a large serving of meatballs on top of what he assumes is mashed potatoes, all smothered in a sticky red sauce. He pokes them with his fork, more than a little skeptical. Jesse seems to pick up on his dubiousness, answering his doubts.

“Yeah, they don’t look great, but trust me, they’re delicious. Lingonberry meatballs, somethin’ of a house special here, I suppose. It’s kinda sweet n’ tart.”

He cuts one in half, and cautiously places it in his mouth.

“Mmm.” He hums in approval, pleasantly surprised by the contrast of tastes and textures.

The cowboy nods, stuffing an entire meatball in his mouth and following it with a massive spoonful of potatoes and roast brussel sprouts. He follows suite with smaller portions, savoring each bite as he realizes just how hungry he was.

They eat in silence for a few minutes, devouring the contents of the trays. It’s not particularly unpleasant.

_ Perhaps he appreciates silent company. Odd. I would not have thought it from his looks. _

As if on cue, Jesse puts his tray on the side table, stretching his arms towards the ceiling before he falls back into the recliner. He grins at Hanzo, arms crossed behind his head.

“Ain’t too bad, huh?”

“No, it is not bad. Actually, I find it rather good. There is nice contrast between the sweet meat and the potatoes.”

Jesse nods in agreement, tiliting his hat back and popping up the recliner’s footrest.

“Put it nicer ‘n I woulda, but that’s the gist of it.” He pauses for a moment, watching him finish the last of his meatballs. “O’Deorain told me yer gettin’ prosthetics?”

He nods silently, swallowing before he speaks.

“Yes, I have agreed to the invitation. I must admit, I was surprised to be offered such a thing without any personal cost to myself.”

Jesse chuckles and smiles.

“Yeah, Mercy’s just that kinda body. She really does just want ta help folks out the most she can. Yer no exception.”

“So it would seem. She was rather passionate during our discussion.”

He hums in agreement, downing the rest of his water in one gulp before they fall back into a less easy silence. He waits for the cowboy to fill it, but it continues on. Usually, he would choose to stay silent, to keep him at a distance, but something pushes him to end it.

_ I have been alone with ghosts for too long. _

“The novel you brought -” Jesse perks up, looking somewhat surprised and relieved- “is awful.”

His expression falters and a tinge of red tints his cheeks.

“Uh, well, it ain’t no literary masterpiece, that’s fer sure, and - ”

Hanzo smirks, cutting him off.

“I love it.”

His words die in his mouth open. It takes him a moment to close it, and another before he replies.

“O-oh! That’s great! I mean, I know it’s pretty cliché, and the science don’t even try ta make sense, but I just can’t not love a good vigilante space cowboy.”

“It is terribly cliché, but I am so very weak for nonsensical gun fights in space.”

“They’re just so good, yeah? Hey, if you’re inta this genre and all, did ya ever happen to watch this old anime called Trigun?”

He snorts, shaking his head at the name.

“Unfortunately, yes. A close friend of mine had me watch it. They greatly enjoyed bad anime.”

Jesse chuckles and nods in approval.

“Not really your taste, then? You seen Cowboy Bebop, then? It may be a little closer ta yer taste.”

Hanzo startles slightly, his memory roused.

_ “Ni-san, someday I’m gonna fake my death and leave the clan for my smoking hot lover.” _

_ “Rewatching Cowboy Bebop?” _

_ “How could you ever guess?” _

_ “If you’re Spike, then who am I?” _

_ “I’d say Ein, but you aren’t nearly cute enough~” _

He blinks, then nods with a small smile.

_ Sorry brother, it appears I am closer to Spike. _

“Yes, I have. More than once, actually. I suppose you could say it resonated.”

Jesse smiles enthusiastically.

“It’s a good one, that’s for sure. Can’t say most folk could relate though.”

It was an implied question, and he knew it. He shifts in his seat, and finds himself slipping back into a practiced defensive but powerful ambivalence.

“No, I suppose they would not.”

Jesse seems to note the change in tone and demeanor, sitting up a little bit straighter.

“Sorry, didn’t mean ta pry. Guess I got a little excited. I can kinda relate, and I aint just talkin’ about my fashion choices.”

He sighs and leans forward, pulling his hat off and holding it in slack hands. He pauses for a moment, then turns to make steady eye contact as he speaks.

“Though I guess the getup is kinda tied in. Ya see, ya weren’t too far off the mark thinkin’ I was Deadlock, cause I used ta be.”

He pauses, trepidation entering his expression. Hanzo simply returns his gaze, his face trained into perfect neutrality. Jesse sighs before continuing, running a hand through his hair.

“To put a long story short, I got swept up and brought here, kinda like you. I’ve been lookin’ over my shoulder and bustin’ the bad guys ever sense.”

He nods slowly, looking away and considering his options.

“I . . . have a somewhat similar history, I suppose.”

He looks up from his hat, curiosity and surprise scrawled across his face.

_ An honest man, or a very good actor? _

His mind wanders as the words flow from his lips, almost involuntarily. He stares past Jesse’s eyes, his shoulders straight and back tense.

“I was yakuza, as I’m sure you’ve gathered from my tattoo.”

He nods in confirmation.

“Yeah, even I could connect those dots.”

The slight bit of self-deprecating humor helps to calm his nerves slightly. He keeps his head high and his face indifferent, but his tone is laced with sarcasm.

“Really?”

He chuckles slightly and nods.

“Yessiree, sure did!”

Hanzo continues, and finds the words come easier than he thought they would. Something about Jesse’s raw emotions and lack of judgement encourage him to go on, as if their exchange was more of a conversation than an interrogation.

_ An old tactic, but he does it so well. I don’t care. Let him know. He _ **_is_ ** _ good company. _

Relaxing, he decides to imbue a little more humor into their chat.

“My  . . .  _ severing _ from the clan was far from voluntary, and I assume they believe I lost my life as well as my legs.”

“ _ Good one, brother!” _

Jesse’s eyes widen as he registers the pun, and then chokes on a poorly held back snort. He simply smirks in reply, waiting for him to recollect himself as he coughs. He finally manages to wheeze out a reply.

“Is that so?”

“Yes. They would have pursued Deadlock to recover me if they believed I was alive, but I suppose any rumors of my survival  _ didn’t have a leg to stand on _ .”

He tries to hold back a laugh, and devolves into a fit of coughing and giggling, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“Okay, yer doin that on purpose, ain’t ya!”

His eyes glint mischievously, but the rest of his face stays as trained as ever.

“I’m certain I have no idea what you are talking about.”

He merely wheezes in reply, smile spreading across his face as he leans back and collects himself.

“Guess we got more than a bit in common, huh?”

“So it would seem.” He picks up his glass, finishing the last of the water before carefully placing it beside the silverware. Jesse is beaming a lopsided grin when he looks back up. He feels his heart flutter and barely manages to keep himself from staring with his mouth open like a gawking idiot.

“Guess it’s settled, I’ll just have ta bring ya more tacky paperbacks!”

He straightens up ever so slightly and lets the ghost of smile pass his lips.

“I suppose you will.”

Jesse nods, then startles as he looks at Hanzo’s clock.

“Aw, hell.” He pulls himself up with alarming speed, gathering their trays.

_ I had nearly forgotten he is a skinwalker. I wonder if this is how he really looks? _

“Sorry ta bolt, but I’ve gotta be somewhere in about five minutes ago. Lunch tomorrow?”

Hanzo blinks, slightly startled, before nodding somewhat more enthusiastically than he had intended.

“Yes.”

Jesse grins apologetically as he pulls the door open with his foot, juggling the lunch trays in his arms.

“Allrighty! I’ll see ya then!” He slips through the door, but pokes his head back in before it closes altogether. “By the way, don’t worry if O’Deorain presses ya about the prosthetics. Mercy’ll reign her in all right. You take care!”

The door swings shut as he replies.

“And you as well.”

_ Ridiculous. A ridiculous, charming cowboy. _

            ------- oOo -------

_ His brother fidgets beside him, the coarse cotton of his pants rustling as he shifts in his loose seiza. He sighs, not bothering to open his eyes. _

_ “Yes?” _

_ The release of his brother’s pent up energy is almost palpable as he gives up entirely on his meditation. _

_ “I told you you would like him if you gave him a chance!” _

_ He sighs again, breathing out in the same motion. _

_ “He is rather charming, and he seems to be genuine enough.” _

_ “I’m telling you, he is genuine!” _

_ “Hmm. Or perhaps he is simply very good at his job.” _

_ His brother lets out an exaggerated sigh, and judging by the dull “thump”, has chosen to flop over backwards in exaggerated exasperation. _

_ “Could you, for once, consider the idea that some people are just honestly good?” _

_ He smiles slightly. _

_ “I consider you good, my sparrow. Even if you are a rowdy obnoxious brat of a little brother.” _

_ He giggles in reply. _

_ “Comes with the job description, ni-san!” _

_ He hums in agreement, a smile pulling at his lips. _

_ “I wish you could meet him. He likes the same horrible anime as you.” _

_ Genji balks, mock-offence lacing his tone. _

_ “Horrible anime? There is no such thing, Hanzo!” _

_ He simply chuckles, shaking his head as they both fall back into measured breathing. _

His meditation is abruptly ended by a rap at the door. Blinking, he grounds himself in the tiny room, mind catching up to the present. It feels colder and more impersonal than ever.

“Hello?”

The door swings open with less force than he was expecting considering O’Deorain’s earlier enthusiasm. He quickly realizes that may be because O’Deorain is not the figure in the door. Instead, he is greeted with a slightly disheveled Mercy, dinner tray in hand.

“Hello, Mr. Okami!”

“Greetings.”

His puzzlement must show, as she smiles a bit and answers his unvoiced concerns.

“You were expecting Dr. O’Deorain, correct?”

“Ah, yes.”

_ Although I much prefer your presence. _

“Unfortunately, Dr. O’Deorain was called away on urgent, sudden business, and will likely be unable to attend to you for several days. I’ve already made arrangements with another doctor to fill in in her stead.”

She sets the tray down beside him before she moves about the room, checking a variety of instruments.

“I’m afraid that Jesse will be unable to bring you lunch for the same reasons, so you and I will be seeing a bit more of each other, although I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay and talk for very long.”

“I see.”

He tries to keep the creeping disappointment in his chest out of his voice.

_ Perhaps that is for the better. You are growing attached and complacent far too quickly. _

She gives him a small, slightly knowing smile.

“I’m sorry that I am not as good a conversationalist as he, but I’ll simply have to do. However, I do have good news! You’re scheduled for prosthetic fitting the morning after tomorrow!”

She smiles ear to ear as she declares it, nearly glowing with happiness.

“Thank you.”

She pauses, her smile reaching well into her eyes as she looks at him directly.

“You’re quite welcome. Now, I’m afraid that I must go attend to other patients. Have a good night, Mr. Okami, and if you have any trouble, just press the green buzzer on the side of the bed or in the bathroom.”

He nods, pulling the tray over as she nearly runs out of the room. He pokes his food contemplatively, suddenly devoid of all appetite.

_ I wonder what they were needed for? His line of work seems dangerous. _

He stares at the door and the room seems terribly quiet and far too small. He looks towards the worn brown leather recliner with its ridiculously homey crocheted throw, and finds himself thinking about the scruffy beard, lopsided grin, and genuine laugh.

_ Stay safe, cowboy. You are not off lunch duty yet.  _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi yall! I hope life is treating you well in the middle of this allergy season. Once more, we must thank our benevolent beta reader, krill, for keeping me in line and assuring me that this isn't just a flaming dumpster fire (unlike my life, lol.) I hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/wnJCoZr)  
> https://imgur.com/wnJCoZr


	13. Just a Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel receives a distress call.

Jesse runs down the hall faster than a six foot tall man in high-heeled cowboy boots should rightfully be able to. The scraps of their lunch skitter around the tray, a crumb or two flying off occasionally. He dumps them in the dish return window before sprinting towards the training simulators.

_ Trainin’ in the mornin’, afternoon, and evenin’! Might kill me if Ana don’t fer bein’ late. Can’t believe I’m late, and ta joint trainin’ ta boot. _

**_Shit!_ **

_ Joint training! We’re upstairs this afternoon, ya numbskull! _

Rounding on his heel, he runs the short distance to the closest stairwell. Opening the door, he shakes his head.

_ Really don’t want ta run up the stairs just ta have ta run some more. Could take the other way, I guess. _

He closes the stairwell door, jogging down the hall to the widest heating shaft leading to the surface. He jimmies the maintenance door open, looks both ways down the hall and leaps into it, falling towards the glowing central furnace as he shifts. In a second, he’s rising on the steady current of hot air, enjoying the feeling of warm windss rippling through his feathers. He angles expertly, rising lazily towards the surface.

_ Hope they ain’t fixed the hole in the chimney grate yet. _

He tightly circles the top of the shaft once, wingtips barely brushing the edges as he finds, to his relief, that the hole has not been fixed. Steeling himself, he folds his wings and dives through, shooting out into the cold winter air. The sun bounces off the freshly fallen snow piled on the roofs and grounds of the base, an unperturbed blanket of sparkling white. He circles wide, forgetting for a moment that he had somewhere to be in favor of soaking up the sight.

_ Almost as pretty as the desert. Too bad we can’t get this view at trainin’. Joint trainin’. The trainin’ yer late for. Hell, gonna have ta shift out here in front of an audience. _

He circles once more before altering his course, sweeping towards the training grounds with mounting dread. As he gets close enough to make things out, he’s relieved to see that despite the fact he’s late, training hasn’t yet begun. In fact, it looks like barely half of an Overwatch unit has made it onto the field, a few troops trickling out at a time.

_ Twins ain’t here yet either. Gonna have ta thank ‘em later for lettin’ me dodge that bullet. _

He finally picks out the annoyed face of his commander, and lets out a cry, swooping towards him. Gabe looks towards the sky, shielding his eyes for a moment before he stretches his arm out, waiting. Jesse alights on the offered limb, flapping his wings for balance while attempting not to dig in too hard with his talons. Gabe doesn’t even flinch as the giant twelve-pound golden eagle settles on his arm.

“You’re late Jessito.”

He bobs his head up and down in agreement, his feathers poofing up against the cold. The temperature may be relatively regulated in the training fields and facilities, but it was still a bit too cold for his taste.

“Were you with Okami?” More head bobbing. “Mmm. You’re excused in my book, then. The more info we can get on him, the better. The twins, on the other hand, are absolutely in trouble with both me and Ana. Those idiotas have no excuse.”

Hunter and Moira chuckle, and Fred nods in agreement as the three trot over. Fred is dressed only in his ripped t-shirt and highly distressed red chinos, without so much as a hint of a shiver. He takes one look and laughs at his fluffed up plumage.

“Too cold out for you, Jesse?”

He flaps his wings in indignation and instantly regrets it as the cold air sweeps through, but he lets out a squak for punctuation anyways.

_ Stupid antler head and his cold-resistance. Can’t wait til we get our next mission somewhere warm again. Watch him melt and see how funny he thinks I look then. _

His glaring is interrupted by the approach of familiar footsteps. He pivots his head as Ana, Jack, and Reinhardt walk over, waving to their cluster. Jack’s eyes are shimmering in childlike fascination while Rein and Ana share an amused, knowing look. He jogs over to them and beams in wonderment at Gabe.

“Gabe! Whose bird is this? Can I pet it?”

Jesse flaps his wings once and releases a staccato crow of amusement. Gabe gets a mischievous glint in his eyes even as his heart melts.

“Hi Jackie. I’m afraid you can’t pet it, but I think you could hold it if you’d like.”

He looks at Jesse, eyes both pleading and ornery.  He shoots him a look.

_ I’ll do it, but only cause it’s yer boyfriend and it’s gonna be funny. _

Jack looks like a kid in a candy shop as he holds out his arm. Ana’s lips twitch in amusement and Rein is visibly choking back laughter. The rest of Blackwatch, to their credit, are managing to keep perfectly straight faces despite the fact they know what’s coming.

Jesse puts on a show, tilting his head in mock distrust as Gabe urges him on to Jacks arm. He finally shifts his weight over, settling on to his unsurprisingly steady new perch. He stares at him in amazement before he speaks.

“Its eyes seem so human.” He turns to look at Gabe who is microseconds away from completely losing it. “What’s its name?”

Gabe smirks from ear to ear.

“Jesse.”

Jack’s face contorts in slight confusion, and right on cue, Jesse shifts back. They go down instantly, surrounded by a fit of laughter as Jack stumbles at the sudden weight of a full grown man perched on his extended arm. He cackles as he hits the ground and rolls, making sure not to injure the now incredibly red, but chuckling Jack.

The twins finally arrive as everybody, including Jack, is absolutely howling in amusement and recapping the situation in wheezy half-sentences, only to start back up laughing.

“What did we miss?”

Gabe chuckles, wiping away a stray tear from his eye.

“You’d know if you two weren’t so late, now wouldn’t you?”

Nate opens his mouth to protest while Nick shakes his head in acceptance.

The crew laughs a bit longer as the Overwatch troops are still milling around and getting themselves in order. The stares feel a little more manageable as he stands here laughing with his team.

_ With family. My family. _

After a few more minutes of on-and-off-again laughter, Ana wipes her tears away and turns to face the troops.

“Allright, now that we are all finally here, we can begin. Go ahead and take a few minutes to stretch. You’ll need it as you will be doing double laps for tardiness.”

The troops groan in reply, but begin stretching regardless. Jesse and the rest of the crew join them, leaving Ana, Gabe and Jack at the front of the ranks. He sidles in beside a slightly nervous looking cluster of Overwatch agents, tipping his hat and smiling disarmingly.

“Howdy, mind if take this spot?”

They all mutter, a few even scooting over to give him and the rest of the team more room. One shorter blonde man mutters a few choice derogatory words under his breath. Jesse chooses to ignore him, and continues to stretch, tilting his hat down. The man snorts derisively and mutters.

“A fucking monster  _ and _ a coward, then.”

Jesse grits his teeth, prepared to bear it, and is completely taken by surprise when the guy hits the floor hard.

“Care to repeat that, asshole?”

Nick is standing over him, glaring down at him as Nate stands on his other side, fire in his eyes.

The other Overwatch troops have mixed reactions, from ready to fight to total confusion. Murmurs begin to shift through the ranks. He hears the familiar clicks of Fred’s arm shifting into shield configuration and the quiet pulsing thrum of Moira’s orbs behind him. He doesn’t even dare to breathe, quickly sizing up the troops surrounding them, eyes darting over faces and stances.

_ They look experienced, be a tough fight. More’n a couple of hunters, fer sure. _

The stalemate ticks on for a few mounting moments, then ends as abruptly as it began as Jack barks from the front of the group.

“Overwatch, attention to me!”

The troops snap to face him, some begrudgingly and others more immediately, saluting. His usually sweet summer-blue eyes have turned to ice and steel as he glares at them in disappointment. Gabe just gives them a look of both concern and reassurance, and his teammates immediately fall into what could pass for nonchalance to the untrained eye. Ana is frowning in disappointment, her eyes fixed on the short blonde man. He pulls himself up, then looks away from her, swallowing. The twins take a step back, crossing their arms and scowling. Jack continues after a moment of silence.

“I thought you were all aware as to why you are here today, but I guess I’m going to have to spell it for some of you who’ve missed it. You are here today to train  _ with _ these agents to fight the enemy, not to fight them  _ as _ your enemy. Now, if anyone has a beef to pick with that, speak up. I’ll be happy to send you your dishonorable discharge papers for dissent, racism, and general jackassery.”

Some of the troops fidget in place, but none raise their hands or step forwards.

“Glad to hear you all have some brains between your ears. I’m going to have to have a chat with some of your immediate commanders on your behavior, however.”

Ana nods in agreement.

“Certainly. I had hoped that we could spare formal introductions, but it would seem that I was under the assumption you could all act like adults.”

She fixes the short man with another seething glare before she turns her head to nod at Gabriel. He snorts and scowls.

“So it would seem. I have to say, I had higher expectations for some of the top agents of the organization I used to run.”

Some of the troops murmur, obviously unaware of who Gabe was, exactly.

_ Beanie always throws folks off. _

He gives Jack a look, and he returns it with a small, understanding smile. Gabe continues, crossing his arms and leaning on one leg.

“Even though I need no introduction, I’ll start. I’m Gabriel, the ‘other Strike Commander’ and head of Blackwatch. You may call me Strike Commander Reyes or by my moniker, Reaper. This -” he motions towards them – “Is my personal strike team. And yes, they do outrank all of you, except Rein of course.” Rein grins and waves, and Ana lets a smile slip as she waves back. Gabe snorts and nods towards Jesse. “And this is my second-in-command.”

Jesse grins lazily and tips his hat, his eyes flashing red in the rays of the afternoon sun. His gaze lingers just a bit longer on the troublemaker before scanning the rest of the crowd.

“Howdy, yall. Name’s McCree, moniker’s Vaquero, but I ain’t too picky, long as the name’s civil.”

He gives the short man a dangerously sharp toothed smile before he nods towards the rest of the crew. Each of them introduce themselves in no particular order, the twins tones’ laced with venom and threat as they glare at the man they decked.  Moira introduces herself last, her words a low, slightly unsettling roll.

“ – and you may refer to me as either Dr. O’Deorain or Banshee.”

She finishes it off with a small bow full of dramatic flair. Jesse snorts quietly and the twins chuckle. Ana nods approvingly.

“Now that we are all acquainted, can we begin training like civilized adults?”

The troops respond in affirmation with varying degrees of dread and acceptance as they move towards the track and start running. Jesse can’t help but smile, soothed by the rhythm of his boots against the ground, the wind in his hair. He easily outpaces most of the troops, passing a struggling, exasperated Fred more than a few times, flanked by a few other slow moving tanks. He shoots him the finger, and Jesse just laughs and picks up the pace.

_ Least he’s got some company for once. _

The training continues for a few hours, but isn’t quite as intense as the night before, or that morning for that matter.

_ Not for me anyways. Blues seem ta be havin’ a time of it. Seems like they’ve settled into a comfortable steady. Guess Jack was right about that  _ **_and_ ** _ the racism. _

He’s still grateful when Ana finally calls for a break and they all head inside towards the simulators. Trotting over to Gabe, he’s surprised to find him frowning and looking at his com.

“Somethin’ up, jefe?”

He frowns, shaking the device and grumbling

“Stupid thing won’t load my messages. I’m going to have to call IT again. They just take way too long to fix anything.”

Jesse looms over his shoulder to take a look as it suddenly buzzes an unfamiliar pattern, a purple skull appearing on the small holoscreen, followed by a single message in a font of the same color.

Sombra: I need to talk to you right now. Get to a conference room and bring your team and your boyfriend.

Gabe blinks down at the device before rapidly typing out a response.

Gabe: What is this about?

Sombra: If you want your information on this auction, you’d better hurry.

He snarls at the com and yells to the rest of the team.

“Puta madre! Blackwatch, we’ve got to move. Need you too, Jack, no time to explain. Lo siento.”

Jack frowns, running over to join them. Gabe sweeps out of the training yard and down the hall, searching for the nearest conference room. He growls out obscenities as he navigates the less familiar halls of the Overwatch portion of the base, doubling back a few times. Finally, he finds a conference room and flings the door open on an ongoing meeting. Jacks sweeps past him, his ‘commander voice’ in full effect.

“Sorry everyone, clear out. This room is needed for an emergency meeting.”

Jesse watches the baffled paper pushers as they start gathering up cases of documents from the table and scurrying out of the room, trying no to gawk as the rest of the team files in. Fred is delighted as gets a view of the table.

“Ooh, they left Tim Hortons!”

Moira snorts as Hunter simply smiles at him, fully enamored. Jesse rolls his eyes despite the seeming urgency of the situation.

_ Just kiss already, please! Wonder what this is about anyways, can’t be good. Pity I don’t care much for Tim Horton’s. Ooh, is that a raspberry filled one though? _

His thoughts are interrupted by every single light in the building going off at once, the backup generators slowly flickering on. The projector above them suddenly whirs to life, displaying Sombra’s trademark purple skull. The cameras in the room turn towards them, their faces lit in the dim purple glow. A tinny voice emanates from the speakers around the room.

“Hola?”

They all sit in utter shocked silence, except for the sounds of Fred slurping on leftover coffee.

_ A – a little girl? Naw, gotta be a voice changer. _

An image flickers in to life, replacing the skull, but cast in the glow of the same purple tone. A tiny finger taps the camera.

“Is this thing on?”

It pulls back to reveal the image of a small girl, no more than ten with long braided hair and a pink t-shirt bearing the same emblem. She frowns, typing away at a traditional keyboard. Gabe finally collects himself enough to speak, using his official, gravely voice.

“Sombra?”

“Si, that’s me! I’d say it’s nice to finally meet you, but it’s absolutely not.”

His eyebrows arch and he holds back a snort as Gabe frowns in consternation.

“Nice to meet you too. What do you want?”

She frowns, typing away and looking back over her shoulder before dropping her voice to a whisper.

“It’s not what you and I want, it’s what we _ need _ . You need the information on this auction, si?”

Gabe nods begrudgingly.

“Yes. I thought we had already agreed on our terms?”

She nods, smiling dangerously.

“Well, the terms have changed. While I was looking into your request, I got caught, and to say the people in charge of this thing aren’t happy about that is an understatement.”

Gabe frowns, and begins to curse before he stops himself, suddenly realizing that he is technically speaking to a small child. She just grins in amusement.

“Alright. What does that have to do with me? Sounds like a problem that comes with the job.”

She scowls and shakes her head.

“Trust me, I can handle people coming for me digitally, but these people are on my doorstep trying to kill me, and if you haven’t noticed, I’m a child, so there’s not a whole lot I can do about that.”

A loud bang that sounded suspiciously like a hand grenade shakes the camera.

“Carajo!”

Gabe’s eyebrows hit his hairline. They hear the shuffling of little feet in total darkness for a few moments, before the camera re-centers on the young face.

“See what I mean? So if you want your information, you’re literally going to have to come and get it.”

Gabe grunts, leaning on the table with his head down. He lifts it up after a moment, looking towards him.

Jesse looks into the footage of her eyes, trying to see if they’re walking straight into a trap. Despite her bravado, he sees a whole lot of fear.

_ Don’t seem like a trap at all. Not like we got a lotta choice otherwise. Even if we are walkin’ right inta one, can’t just ignore a scared little kid in need. _

He gives Gabe a nod. The girl smiles, looking a tiny bit relieved.

“Gracias, Jesse.”

_ Suppose I ought ta be surprised she knows my name. _

“Thank me when you’re out and alive.”

Gabe chuckles and nods in agreement.

“Alright kid. Where are you located?”

“I’m in Dorado, near Lumerico. I can give you more exact details when you get here, I’m having to move around a bit until you do.”

“I assume you’ll know when we get there?”

She smirks into the camera, raising an eyebrow and looking far too smug for someone in mortal danger, much less a literal child.

“Si, I’ll know. See you later.”

She wiggles her fingers as the feed cuts, replaced by the purple skull. The lights flicker as the power comes back on. They hear a collective cheer and sighs of relief from outside of the conference room. They stand for a beat, unmoving.

“Oi suppose we’re traveling to Dorado, then?”

Gabe nods in agreement.

“Guess so. Meet me at the carrier in ten, and bring extra supplies. Who knows what we’re going up against.”

Jesse nods grimly.

_ Guess I’m gonna get ta see Fred melt sooner ‘n later. Careful what ya wish fer, I guess. _

\------- oOo -------

The ride to Dorado is a far cry from their usual approaches. Instead of a tense, quiet anticipation, the carrier is full of intense strategizing as they quickly research the city. Fortunately, Gabe and Jack have some experience fighting the local gangs, and quickly give the carrier a run-down on what, roughly, they can expect from the locals.

“- and their tattoos glow in the dark.”

Jesse snorts the water he’d been drinking out of his nose, devolving into ugly laughter. Jack looks towards him, eyebrow raised. He giggles a bit more, wiping his face on his sleeve.

“An’ yall accuse  _ me _ of bein’ gaudy and tacky.”

Gabe snorts.

“You shouldn’t be proud just because you aren’t  _ the _ tackiest, Jessito. So we’ve got a basic idea of potential local threats, and Jack and I have a pretty good feel for the area. That’s good.”

Moira nods, checking the connections on her backpack.

“Better than blind, Oi suppose. Still, Oi would appreciate it if you gentlemen can remember to stay close to either myself or Hunter, and Jack, please don’t forget your own biotic fields.”

He nods curtly, patting the canisters in his hip pocket. Hunter calls out from the cockpit, voice tense.

“Go ahead and strap in, we’re five minutes out.”

They all clamber into their seats, pulling on the bulky harnesses as the frantic pre-battle chatter dies on their tongues. He tilts his head down, closing his eyes and thinking about the objective of the mission in his own terms.

_ Hope this goes well, we really need that auction info. And I don’t want ta see a little kid dead, even if she is freaky good at hacking and talks like an adult. If we do get her out, she’s in for quite the trip. Bet she thinks Gabe’s a hard ass. _

He smiles slightly at the thought. He certainly had when he’d first arrived, watching him curse up a storm in that gravelly tone he reserved for nasty, serious business. It had melted away instantly when he’d punched him hard enough in interrogation for him to shift into his scrawny fifteen year old self, spitting hellfire and brimstone as he cried from anger and pain. He’d left the room and came back with a full lunch, including a piece of apple pie and milk, apologizing for his treatment. He’d sulked, but he couldn’t resist the pie or Gabe’s kindness in the end.

A loud thud and a bit of shaking signals their touchdown, and they all hurry to unbuckle and survey the area. They step out into the innermost courtyard of an old church on the edge of the ocean. The moon beams overhead, lighting up the city as the crash of waves sounds below. For the second time that day, he forgets himself in the scenery, the smell of salt and the warm glow of a hundred hillside windows quieting his anxious thoughts.

All too soon, he’s pulled back to the task at hand by the distinctive sound of Gabe’s shotguns clanking against his hip as he and Jack pace towards the front of the church. He and the rest of the team trail behind them, fanning out to the sides. They silently wind their way up the stairs as Gabe peeks out of the second story balcony to survey the landscape. After a few silent moments, pulls his head back in.

“Nothing as far as I can tell.”

They all relax a bit, weapons still drawn, but not at the ready. His com buzzes as if on command. He opens it, holding it out in his palm as a call flickers to life.

“Glad you finally made it.”

Gabe snorts, shaking his head and opting to get straight to the point.

“What’s your location?”

“I’m sending it to you all now.”

All of their coms buzz as a map of the area pops up, with a small purple skull in the center of Lumerico.

Gabe nods in approval, looking over the map, which they quickly realize is a live feed of the area. He then frowns as they all begin to notice the shady looking people absolutely teeming around the area. Jesse lets out a low whistle.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said they wanted me dead, pendejo.”

Jack’s eyes flit quickly over the map displaying on his visor. After a moment, he nods.

“Alright. I think I’ve got a plan of action.”

\----

Well, it was a good plan, he had to admit, but all good things come to an end, and it had ended far too quickly. They had made their way through the town easily enough, sneaking through silent buildings and ghosting around the edges of courtyards, quietly taking care of the stray guard or thug along the way.

They were all surprised to find that not all of their adversaries were local. In fact, many of them bore yakuza tattoos, which bordered on just as obnoxious. Some of them even glowed in the dark. Gabe had forbid Jesse from even thinking about it. He thought about it anyways.

It had been going fairly smoothly until they had snuck past the first wall of the Lumerico building. That’s when a sniper had noticed them and all hell broke loose. Before they knew it, they were fighting in close, unfamiliar quarters, separated into smaller clusters. The front gates had even closed behind them, pinning them inside the building.

_ Luck just had ta run out in this Godforsaken buildin’, of course. Where else? _

He rolls out to the left, placing several bullets in the torsos of two particularly nasty looking guys wielding katanas. Ducking behind Fred’s barrier, he takes a second to make sure they’re down for the count and breathes before whirling to his side and fanning the hammer into an approaching gunman.

Moira huffs out a ragged thanks, and he nods, reloading and counting.

_ Two snipers, three tanks, one, or two healers? Who knows how many offence. They just keep comin’ Christ, this really ain’t ideal. _

He clutches his side as one of the snipers gets a lucky shot in, grazing the exposed skin between the clasps of his breastplate.

“Fuckin hell, lucky sonofabitch.”

He reloads before placing a well-aimed bullet in their forehead.

Gabe’s voice crackles to life in his earpiece. It’s ragged and pained.

“Alright, fallback to my location. I found her. We’re going to need to re-group.”

“Gotchya, Reaper. Banshee and Famine are movin’ with.”

The coms crackle as Nick reports, huffing. The rattle of Nate’s gun cuts through the background.

“Big Tuna and Scarface are coming towards your location. Black Magic’s not doing so great.”

He picks off a few more gunmen, stunning a tank with a flashbang as Moira drains him dry.

_ He won’t be getting’ up again. _

Pushing the thought aside, he turns and rolls down the narrow hall, guiding them towards the purple dot. The twins join them shortly, supporting a limping Hunter between them. Jesse takes one look and scoops them up.

“C’mon yall, we gotta step on it! They’re hot behind us.”

Their footbeats echo down the hall, the sound of harried shouting in a mixture of languages close behind. The twins lead, their guns rounding corners before they do, glinting in the harshly lit halls. He hears Fred panting in the back, struggling to keep up as he pushes back a wave with his barrier. Nick takes them out with a burst of rockets.

He rounds one corner, then another, deeper into the heart of the building. He almost runs straight past their opening, and would’ve had it not been for the faint glow of Jack’s pulse rifle. He motions the twins back as they dive inside the gap in the wall paneling. Gabe scoots it back into place in a hurry, submerging them in near total darkness.

Footsteps echo past seconds later.

They wait.

His breath is too loud, thin and fast, and his heart is deafening. He squelches the rising panic and adrenaline, counting up internally.  Seconds tick by, then minutes.

Finally, Gabe nods and motions them past a narrow opening between some pipes and conduits. He scoots through first, slowly contorting through the gap until he finds himself in some kind of a service center.

_ Least, looks like it  _ **_was_ ** _ a service center. _

The room has been changed quite a bit from its original purpose. Holoscreens absolutely plaster every surface on one wall, each one the same shade of purple. Various information and code scrolls across them in a constant stream, and in the middle of all of it sits a little girl. She swivels in her chair, juice box in hand.

“Hola.”

He blinks, adjusting to both the lighting and the situation, then grins and tips his hat.

“Howdy. Take it yer Sombra?”

She grins right back at him.

“The one and only. Nice to meet you!”

Gabe scoffs as he slips through the hole, speaking in mock indignation.

“Wait, why is it nice to meet him and not me?”

She giggles, staring up at him with cruel amusement.

“Sorry old man, you’re not nearly as interesting as a real life cowboy in the year 2062.”

Gabe chuckles and nods.

“Fair point.”

The rest of the team slowly spills in, Fred helping Hunter through the gap before laying them down, hovering over them while Moira gets to work. Worry’s written all over his face. Jesse just shakes his head, smiling. He can tell Hunter’s not the best off, but will be fine, and he’s sure Fred would be able to see as much if he weren’t so lovestruck.

The sound of slurping calls his attention as Sombra pulls the last of the liquid out of her juice box. She crushes it, rolling her chair across the room and throwing the empty box into an overflowing trash can full of candy wrappers. She pulls out another one, and extends it to him.

He grins, taking it and carefully unwrapping the tiny paper straw.

“Thank ya kindly, miss.”

She snorts in response, springing up to face Gabe and Jack. He notices a glowing lump on her back with tendrils of purple trailing up her neck behind her braid.

_ Shit, kid’s got implants already. _

“Okay, so you’ve found me. Now how are we going to get out?”

Jack looks down at her and chuckles.

“Well, isn’t that just the question we’d all like to answer.”

She falters slightly.

“You do have a plan don’t you?”

She’s greeted with silence from the two commanders. Jack looks back towards the team, assessing the damage.

“How long is that going to take, O’Deorain?”

She frown in response, looking Hunter over again.

“Several hours, at the very least. They’ve suffered a minor concussion and a dash of magical suppressant. Oi’m not comfortable moving them for  . . . Hmm. Five hours, at the very least, but Oi would much prefer a full night if at all possible.”

Gabe nods, taking in the new information. Jack speaks up, optimism in his tone.

“Then that’s a full night to come up with a strategy, assuming we don’t get found.”

The twins nod, and Jesse sinks to the ground, leaning against a pillar. He holds his bleeding side, covering the gesture by crossing his arms and tilting his hat down. Gabe gives him a look before he whispers something to Jack.

The Strike Commander sits down next to him, setting down a biotic field.

“Alright, everybody heal up. Gabe and I have got some thinking to do.”

Jesse shoots him an appreciative grin as he takes a sip out of his juice box. Sombra ambles over beside him, frowning. She sits down next to him, her legs crossed like an obedient grade school kid.

“I expected a little bit better from the best shadow organization in the world.”

He snorts, turning his head slightly to look at her. She looks consternated as she glares at the commanders, sipping her pineapple coconut juice.

“Well, only so much we can do on such short notice, especially if we don’t want global attention an’ all.”

She huffs, poking the straw in a bit farther.

“I guess.” She looks up at him, frowning. “Still, you all will get us out, right?”

He nods, a small lopsided smile on his face.

“You better believe it. We’ve been in way deeper trouble than this. Once we all get our bearings, we’ll be outta here in no time.”

They both watch as Gabe and Jack talk quietly, motioning once in a while at the screens. He watches them himself, analyzing the patterns of the watch as they slowly resume their rounds, counting how many are still left. He gets up to twenty-two when he’s interrupted by the tiny girl beside him.

“So you’ve got a crush on Okami?”

He nearly blows his Boing! mango juice out of his nose.

“ ‘Scuse me?”

She smirks at him.

“So that’s a yes, then?”

“It most certainly is not!”

She waves her hand dismissively, still smiling ornerily.

“Alright, you don’t. Doesn’t matter. I’ve been interested in his case ever since Gabe brought it up.”

He tilts his head to meet her eyes. She greets them without batting a lash, and he realizes that they are also cybernetic.

“Yeah?”

“Si. I was excited to get something challenging for once.” Her expression turns from coy to frustrated. “But I couldn’t find anything else that you guys hadn’t, except for two things.”

He can’t keep the interest out of his voice.

“What’d you find?”

She frowns, holding out her hand as a grainy image appears above it. He leans in closer to look it over.

It’s a still from security of a warehouse. In the upper left of the image, two men that appear to be security guards lay on the ground, with two other men wielding swords nearby. They’re also face down, one of them underneath . . .

“Ashe? Is that Deadlock?”

Sombra nods, enlarging the area.

“Si. They broke into this warehouse to steal a shipment of illegal goods from some yakuza guys. But look here.”

She zooms in on a large, slightly open box. He squints, trying to make sense of the shapes.

_ Somthin’ blue and gold, kinda swirly, and somethin’ black, sorta a blue glow. . . Oh! _

“That’s Okami’s tattoo!”

She nods, zooming back out and closing the image.

“Yup. It’s the only photograph I could find of any part of him anywhere.”

He mulls the image over in his head, committing it to memory. She frowns as she flicks through an array of menus faster than he could hope to keep up with.

“The other thing I found is way less useful, but too weird to ignore.”

She finally selects an image, throwing it into the air above her hand. He stares at it in confusion.

“Hieroglyphics?”

“And ancient Egyptian art. Look.”

She zooms in on a part of the colorful mural, focusing in on an unusual figure. It was a man, painted much paler and with different proportions than all the other figures. His clothing was dark, unlike every other image’s, and he had pants instead of skirts. Two small snake-like creatures twined up and around his arm, arching off his shoulder.

“Huh.”

“ ‘Huh’ is right. Your Mr. Okami either has an ancient evil twin, or he’s something more than you guys have caught on to.”

He nods in silent agreement.

“You mind sendin’ those to me?”

She smirks up at him.

“What, don’t you have any of your own pictures of your boyfriend?”

He rolls his eyes as his com buzzes. He opens the files, pouring over the details. Eventually, he puts them away and resumes watching the holoscreens.

_ Around thirty, best I can figure. Gonna be a hell of a fight, but I think we can manage. Guess I could thin ‘em out if we get inta the open area and I’ve got some cover. _

He startles after some time as something lands on his lap. Looking down, he realizes it’s an empty juice box. He looks to his side to find Sombra leaning against him, fast asleep. He smiles softly, gently wrapping his cape around her.

_ Guess she’s latchin’ on to me cause I’m a cowboy. She is still a kid, I guess. Sleep tight then, kiddo. _

He looks up to the screens still full of their enemies.

_ Got a long day ahead of ya.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there guys! How are you all doing? I would like to send out another huge thanks to krill for beta-ing this before it goes on the internet for all of you lovely folks. Trust me when I say that they greatly improve your reading experience. As you can see, things are, in fact, getting juicy. :D (at least I hop you guys think so! ) I've included a character lineup for the Blackwatch Oc's to explain their abilities here if anyone is remotely interested. I figure it may help in explaining the battle scenarios some. (And yes, Fred may be a bit op in real Overwatch gameplay, but he's the only tank on the team, so I felt it was necessary.)
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/JWUu3Cr)  
> https://imgur.com/JWUu3Cr
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/7nN0DYg)  
> https://imgur.com/7nN0DYg


	14. Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo reunites with an old friend.

Hanzo stares into his cooling dinner with distaste, poking at the suspiciously goopy oatmeal. He sighs, pushing the tray onto the side table and thinking about Jesse for the millionth time that day. Regardless of whether he was a genuinely good person or just extremely good at his job, he was interesting company.

He had spent the morning trying to meditate, only to find himself worrying about the cowboy, or the promised prosthetics, or just his situation in general. He had taken the arrival of lunch as an excuse to change his pace, exercising throughout the afternoon. It didn’t make up for the lack of conversation.

His shoulder aches in protest as he brings the refreshingly good cup of chamomile tea to his lips. He silently thanks Mercy for its presence.

_At least you are getting a chance to recover your strength. And if you are this attached to Jesse’s company already, perhaps it is best that he is gone. You’ve known him for all of three days._

He sighs, staring at the opposite wall. He had warmed to Jesse extremely quickly, perhaps even recklessly fast. While he didn’t want to admit it, he suspected that had to do with the fact that he had been in isolation for so long, and the man was at least a kind jailor.

_Of course, the dreams do not help. Who would have thought my brother would continue to be a bad influence from beyond the grave?_

He stares into his cup of tea, brooding. After several quiet minutes, he finally forces himself to eat the oatmeal, which is as cold and unappetizing as he had suspected it would be. Setting the empty tray aside, he makes his way to the bathroom, finishing his nightly routine with low spirits.

He brushes his teeth, and then his hair. He forces himself to focus on the rhythm of the brush and the pleasant feeling of clean teeth and neat hair. Washing his face, he finds himself staring into the mirror, struck by his own image. Now that he’s clean and well-shaven, his face is almost too familiar. It’s the same face he’s had for millennia, but it doesn’t seem to belong to him. He blinks. Staring in the mirror, he realizes he will likely have the same youthful look for many millennia to come.

_Millenia without Genji. Perhaps without anyone, if I cannot escape._

He pushes the thought away from his mind, holding back the sting of tears at the corner of his eyes.

_They are watching. Do not give them more weakness to leverage. They have enough._

Numbly, he struggles to get the wheelchair back into the main room, pulling the blankets and pillows into the rickety seat. He gulps down the last of the chamomile tea and tires not to dwell as he waits for the pressure of unshed tears to subside, and for sleep to pull him to another, hopefully more pleasant, place. He sighs, closing his eyes and trying not to think.

            ------- oOo -------

The knock on his door arrives at exactly eight in the morning. He swings open the door to the bathroom, leaning through the frame. He resists the urge to scratch at the stubble left intentionally on his chin. It had been impulsive, really, but he had decided to try to grow a beard with the idea that it would make him appear more mature.

_It seems to work for Jesse. Although, it does not counteract his personality._

He pushes the thought aside as another rap comes from the door.

“Come in.”

Mercy swings it open, a sun-bright smile gracing her face.

_She must have already had her coffee._

“Good morning, Mr. Okami! Did you sleep well?”

He nods, not wanting to divulge the anxious dreams and contorted memories that plagued him through the night.

“Yes, thank you. You seem to be in high spirits.”

She grins as she sets his breakfast down on the side table.

“But of course! You’re going to get fitted for prosthetics today!”

_Oh. I’d forgotten. I should have more worry for my situation than ghosts and absent jailers._

“Yes, that is nice.”

She chuckles and nods, sitting primly in the recliner.

“Indeed! Eat up, we’re due in fifteen minutes. The doctor filling in for O’Deorain will be assisting me in the fitting, and I’d like to be there before her. She’s a stickler for timeliness.”

He nods, sipping from the cup of tea and suppressing a face of disgust.

_No cream or sugar, just overly strong instant black tea. From a pod? A mockery, really._

“I can understand her sentiment.”

Mercy hums in agreement, typing away on her holopad. He devours the small bowl of cereal and the banana, mind wandering over the shapes and textures of the room, still waking. After a moment of hesitance, he gulps down the tea all at once, nose crinkling slightly at the unidentifiable grains floating in the bottom of the cup. She looks up at the sound of him neatly placing it back on the clean tray.

“Ready?”

He nods, releasing the brake on the chair as she moves to open the door.

“Wonderful! We’ll be going right down the hall, five doors to the left.”

He rolls out into the hallway as she shuts the door, turning to walk alongside him. All of the doors look the same, with nothing more than small room number plaques to distinguish them. They reach their destination in less than a minute. Mercy types in a code beside it and scans a badge before it whirs and clicks. She pushes it open, holding it as he enters.

“After you.”

“My thanks.”

The room is much larger than his own, although it shares the same wall colour. It has several pieces of exercise equipment, as well as a few medical instruments and an examination table. She smiles sympathetically and motions towards it.

“You’ll need to sit up there, I’m afraid.”

He navigates to the table, putting the brake on the chair as he steadies his palms against the tabletop.

“How can I best hel- oh.”

She blinks in slight confusion as he pulls himself up and onto the table in one smooth motion.

_If only that damned bed was this stable._

“Allright. Well. I’m going to go ahead and start gathering some of the equipment we’re going to be using. If you need anything, just call for me.”

He nods in affirmation as she slips out of sight past a few freestanding lockers, followed by the click of heels and the clattering of metal cabinet doors. Looking around, he takes in the room properly. The side he is currently sitting in seems to be devoted almost exclusively to purely medical equipment. Adjacent to him is a wall covered entirely in mirrors, the floor covered in soft foam mats and various types of weight machines and balancing equipment. A few sets of parallel bars of varying heights are tucked into the farthest corner.

He’s caught up in trying to determine the function of a particularly large piece of equipment when a familiar voice rings through the room.

“Hanzo?”  
He whips his head around towards the door, eyes wide.

“My God, it is you!”

He stares at her, afraid to blink for fear that she will disappear.

“Ana?”

They both stare at each other in shock for a moment before she lurches into motion, running over to him and scooping him up into a crushing hug.

“Hanzo! What in the world are you doing here?!”

He looks up at the face of his oldest friend, smiling as the warmth of familiarity and safety bloom in his chest.

“I have been asking the same question for some time now, with no success.”

She raises an eyebrow as she pulls back, hands on his shoulder.

“Is that so?”

He nods, and they both turn as the metal cabinet doors swing shut and Mercy re-emerges, arms full of equipment.

 “Shrike! I thought I heard you come in.”

Her expression shifts to confusion as she absorbs their positioning, looking to Ana.

“What’s going on? Was he faint?”

Ana chuckles and shakes her head, smiling.

“No, I don’t believe he is, although he ought to be at the sight of me!” He snorts and shakes his head a bit, a smile creeping onto his face. “Dr. Zeigler, I would like to introduce you to my dearest friend, Hanzo.”

She blinks a few times before setting down the equipment and walking over and smiling, with just a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.

“It’s nice to make your full acquaintance, Hanzo! From now on, please call me Angela.”

He pauses a moment, then nods his head in a small bow.

“It is nice to make yours as well. You may refer to me as either Hanzo, or Shimada-san if you wish to uphold formality.”

_I have enjoyed your company, what little of it I have had. I suppose that would put us on a first name basis. Unless she has not._

She beams at him.

“Hanzo, then.” She turns to Ana. “Have Gabriel or Jack not briefed you on his information?”

Ana shakes her head, frowning.

“No, although not for lack of trying. I was supposed to have been informed several times over the past few days, and then the current situation came up.”

Angela nods, frowning.

“Yes, that would put a wrench in things, wouldn’t it? Still, I’m surprised Jesse hasn’t told you all about him. He’s rather, uhm, _invested_ in Hanzo’s recovery.”

Ana raises an eyebrow and smirks slightly. Hanzo shoots her a questioning look.

_We will have to discuss this later, I suppose._

“Is that so? I knew he had been in close contact with a patient, but he hasn’t had much opportunity to talk my ear off with the new training regimen.”

Angela chuckles and nods

“Well, I’m glad you finally found him today! I’ve been dying to get him out of medbay confinement and treat him properly, but you know.”

She half shrugs and motions vaguely towards the ceiling. Ana nods, frowning slightly.

“Regulations, yes.” She turns to Hanzo. “Speaking of treatment, would you like to delay this appointment, or go ahead?”

Despite the seriousness of the situation and the influx of new information to process, Ana’s presence pulls him into a good mood. He taps his chin in response, a playful frown on his face.

“I’m not certain. Will it involve sleep darts?”

She chuckles and winks.

“Only if you don’t behave.”

He throws up his hands and leans back, smiling ever so slightly.

“Then I shall simply have to cooperate!”

Ana chuckles and motions for Angela to gather her equipment. The two go about prepping it, occasionally consulting a large holopad. Ana takes a few moments to skim a couple of documents, face darkening with every swipe of the page. She turns to him, the fire in her eyes barely masked by her empathetic smile. She gives him another small hug.

“It’s so nice to see you again, Hanzo. We’ll have to get you re-settled after this. I will not allow you to spend another night in the med bay, it’s ridiculous.” She pulls away, holding onto him by the shoulders as if he could slip away. “We have a lot of catching up to do, old friend.”

He hums in agreement as Angela sets up some sort of scanning device. She nods in satisfaction after a few minutes of moving it around and having him sit and prop himself up in various positions, holding them to allow the device to make a ‘full scan’, as Angela informs him.

“All right! That should be enough to create a full model of your residual limbs and knees. Now, would you like to disclose anything about your abilities?”

He glances towards Ana, and she rises to answer for him.  

“I believe that it would be best if we could discuss details at a later date, when he’s had a chance to settle in.”

Angela smiles empathetically, nodding.

“I understand.” She turns to address him. “I’m sure that you could use some time to rest and get situated. I’ll go ahead and reschedule the discussion of components for now.” She checks her watch, and frowns. “I’m going to need to take my leave anyways, I’m afraid I have a few more patients to attend to before the day is through.” She turns back to Ana. “I can’t make anything of his data, and I assume you are more than capable of taking care of his medical needs.”

Ana nods in agreement as he flinches involuntarily. Angela chuckles slightly at his reaction.

“Excellent. Will you be housing him?”

“Yes, I will, and if Gabriel has anything to say about it, he can come to me to discuss his opinions on the matter.”

Angela chuckles, nodding. “He just may take you up on that offer. He’s been very adamant about information and treatment. Although, policy is playing a larger role in his overall treatment.” She turns to Hanzo apologetically. “I’m afraid your outbreak on the carrier and lack of available records sealed you fate as far as confinement goes, so to speak.”

He nods grimly, spirits dropping.

_I may well find myself in confinement once more, then._

Ana snorts and lays a comforting hand on his shoulder, smiling reassuringly.

_Ah. I suppose I need not worry about that._

“Since he is well enough, I will be taking him upstairs and settling him in my guest room. I am more than happy to have a _friendly discussion_ with the UN paper-pushers as well, if I must.”

Angela chuckles and nods, gathering up her equipment.

“I believe I would pay to see that, one sided though it may be. I’m sure both they and Gabriel will have a few choice words. Regardless, I’m also sure you’ll be much better off upstairs with Ana, Hanzo!”

He smiles faintly, the long-forgotten comfort of safety pushing away his doubts.

“Yes, I believe I will.”

            ------- oOo -------

After what seemed like an eternity of navigating through nearly identical halls, he and Ana had finally arrived at an elevator. A few minutes of idle chatting later, it had opened to a wide bustling lobby full of Overwatch uniforms. Ana had strode confidently into the throng, and the crowd had parted in waves around her. They breezed past several guarded entrances without the soldiers giving them so much as a second glance. He can’t help but smile slightly as they avert their gazes, sweat trickling down their foreheads as she strides past them with purpose, shooting the occasional glare.

_Some things never change, I suppose._

They finally reach a corridor that is a slightly less populated than the others, and the doors they pass seem to lead to weightlifting and strength training facilities. The tile in this wing is chipped around the edges, and the paint on the walls is thoroughly scuffed. He scans the hall ahead and notices a giant of a man towering above a number of other very large individuals. Ana grins, waving.

“Reinhardt! Just the man I wanted to see!”

_A giant man named Reinhardt? As in Reinhardt Wilhelm, infamous crusader? You never cease to amaze, Ana._

He turns his head, smiling ear to ear when he catches sight of her. He starts to jog towards them.

“Ana! Vhat can I do for you, my lady?”

She chuckles, shaking her head.

“Do you remember when I spoke of my old friend over dinner last night?”

He nods in agreement, not yet noticing him.

“Ja, I do. Vhy?”

She smiles, stepping to the side and gesturing towards him.

“As always, my intuition was correct. Hanzo, this is Reinhardt Wilhelm. Reinhardt, this is Shimada Hanzo.”

Reinhardt bows in proper crusader fashion before straightening up and beaming.

“Ana has told me much about you! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Shimada-san!”

He returns the gesture with a slight bow of his own.

“I am glad to make your acquaintance as well, Sir Wilhelm. Ana has excellent taste in friends.”

She chuckles, nodding.

“But of course.”

The mountainous man blushes before turning to him.

“Truly, she has good taste in everything. And please, call me Reinhardt! Sir Vilhelm was my father! And his father, come to think of it.”

Ana snorts and shakes her head as she looks up at the man. “Rein, Hanzo was the man that Jack and Gabriel have been unable to identify, the one they’ve been keeping in the medbay. I’m relocating him to my guest room for the moment, and I would like your assistance moving the furniture.”

He nods, still beaming at Ana as he trots beside them down the hall.

_He’s completely fallen for her. I bet he’s the romantic type. He’s **certainly** Ana’s type. Beefcake._

_. . ._

_Not that I blame her._

“Anything for you, Ana.”

“Of course, Rein. If only Gabriel agreed with that sentiment.”

Reinhardt nods in agreement, an almost exaggerated frown crossing his face.

“He von’t be happy vith this, ja?

“I suspect so, but if he’s wise, he’ll accept it without much more than a civil discussion. I won’t bend on this.”

_Thank you, Ana. I truly owe you for this, although you won’t accept the debt. I’ll have to find you some excellent tea, or perhaps make good on that bet from Giza. Or not._

“Nein, you shouldn’t! If you know he’s no threat, there is no need for Gabriel to lock him avay!”

She chuckles, smiling dangerously as they enter a smaller, cozier hall with carpeting and art along the walls.

“Now Rein dear, I never said he was not a threat. After all, he is one of my _oldest_ friends.”

He watches in amusement, nearly chuckling as the gears turn in Reinhardt’s head and finally click into place.

“ **OH**! Acknowledged!”

He nods to Hanzo, surveying him with a little more respect, but still smiling.

_At least my masking abilities have not waned in captivity. If anyone could have found me out, it would be the last dragon slayer._

Ana stops in front of a fairly unassuming door, punching in a code and scanning a badge. It clicks, and she pushes it open to reveal a tidy living room and kitchen with a small hallway leading off to the side with more doors. There are bright throw cushions scattered around the various chairs, and personal photographs arrayed around the space. It would have looked perfectly pedestrian if there had not been several custom sniper rifles mounted above the shoe rack.

He stares at it for a moment, struck by the idea that he no longer has to remove his shoes upon entering a house. Reinhardt holds the door open as he awkwardly maneuvers through the small entryway, less than used to the wheelchair’s quirks. Ana smiles, chatting as she walks down the short hall.

“I know it’s not much compared to most of our previous estates, but it’s at least better than the rooms in med-bay.”

He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Do not worry, I’ve become accustomed to far worse.”

She holds another door in the short hall open for him, and he enters to find a beautiful little room, twice as large as the room in the med bay. He feels the tension slip from his shoulders as he realizes that he will not be returning to it.

_I am free, and in the hands of friends. I am safe._

_Safe._

He stares at it for a long moment as the thought sinks in. Ana begins directing Reinhardt, who removes a few spare chairs and shifts the bed to create wider paths for the wheelchair. She smiles and laughs, joking with the two of them as she shows him the shower, re-arranging everything so that he has access, even if the fit is a bit tight. After a half hour or so, the room is finally in a workable arrangement, and they say goodbye to Reinhardt with promises of later conversation.

She sweeps her hair back as he leaves, then turns to smile at Hanzo.

“You seem tired.”

“Mmm. I am.”  
She nods in silent agreement, surveying the room while resting an arm across his shoulders. After a moment, she looks back to him.

“You should rest, Hanzo. I’ll be watching over you.”

He nods numbly, all the stress and tension washing over him and off his shoulders as she steps out of the room and closes the door. Navigating beside the bed, he pulls himself over and rolls into it, sinking in to the comforter and sheets, welcoming the deep sleep.

            ------- oOo -------

The clattering of metal on ceramic pulls him from his dreamless drifting. He lays for a moment with his eyes closed, taking in the sweet scent of bergamot and Canadian bacon from the comfortable warmth of the bed. His mind begins to wake, slowly forming thoughts as he cracks an eye open and takes in the unfamiliar room. A photo of a little girl being held by a vaguely familiar man is hung above a simple but elegant dresser.

_I wonder if Fareeha still takes after her mother._

He blinks at the photo.

_Oh. Ana. I am in her guest room._

Sitting up, he stretches out, fully enjoying the benefits of sleeping on a comfortable mattress. Pulling back the comforter, the cold air of the room rushes over him so violently that he almost succumbs to the urge to curl back into the comforter. Instead, he pulls it off completely, the idea of freshly brewed tea outweighing the warmth. He smiles as he notices the beautifully wrapped package at the end of the bed.

_Stealthy as ever, I see. Or more, do not._

He snorts at his own joke as he pulls himself into the wheelchair and scoops it up gently as he moves to the bathroom. He can’t help but smile as he notices the dragons embossed on the navy wrapping. Carefully, he pulls the wrapping open, flipping the box lid up to reveal a beautifully tailored suit with a lovely handwritten note nestled in the folds of the vest.

_Hanzo-_

_I was saving this for your next decade, but I believe it is better given now. It may be a bit loose on you now, but the vest can be tightened at the waist and sleeve internally._

_Ana_

He smiles, and a single tear escapes.

“Many thanks, Ana.”

After some struggling in the awkward layout of the decidedly non-handicap accessible bathroom, he finally manages to wrestle the suit on. Frowning, he pulls the jacket off, leaving it on the counter.

_Too loose. It will have to wait until I am fit again, or can access a tailor._

He settles for rolling his sleeves up, loosening his tie and letting the first button of the shirt loose to match. Smoothing his hair back, he tightens the bandage. He smiles at his reflection.

_Now, **there** is a mostly-presentable man._

As soon as he opens the door to the small hallway, the smell of freshly cooked breakfast floods over him. He smiles as he hears Ana humming to a tune that must be at least two centuries old by now. She pauses for a moment as she peers through the glass door of the oven and frowns. He chuckles slightly, and she whips her head up, smiling as she sees him.

“You look sharp, Hanzo.”

He smiles and nods, adjusting the roll of his sleeve.

“Thank you. It is a very fine suit. I’ll have to have it tailored a bit, but neither of us could have known –“

He motions vaguely and she inclines her head slightly. The oven begins to beep, and she crouches to pull the door open, glaring at it.

“I see that baking still evades you?”

She sighs in slight exasperation.

“Yes, as always. I even had the help of an excellent baker, but I still have biscuits with burnt bottoms and undercooked tops. Not that you are much better, if I recall.”

He hums slightly in agreement, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Yes, I believe your last chef forbid me from ever entering their kitchen again.”

She chuckles, nodding in agreement as she pours two cups of steaming hot tea, setting them at the small table tucked into the corner beside the fridge. He carefully maneuvers the wheelchair into place before picking up the tea and taking a small sip.

“Mmmm.”

She smiles, nodding in agreement as she sits down, placing two plates on the table. His mouth waters as he takes in the sight of large servings of Canadian bacon, tamagoyaki, and fuul. He thanks Ana for the food, barely containing himself from inhaling it. She chuckles in acknowledgment as he begins devouring it like a starving man.

“There is plenty more if you would like it.”

He hums around a mouthful of savory bacon and sweet omelette, silently appreciative of the chopsticks beside his plate. They eat in companionable silence for a few moments, enjoying the food and presence of friends, Ana occasionally rising to bring seconds and more tea.

He finally puts down the chopsticks, thanking her once again. Leaning back in the chair, he sips from the cup, swishing the complex flavour over his tongue.

“This is an excellent Earl Grey.”

“I enjoy it. It’s heavy on the bergamot, but still delicate.”

He nods in agreements, gently placing the cup back on the table. They sit a moment longer, enjoying the morning peace and the comfort of full stomachs. To neither of their surprise, Ana is the first to break the silence.

“I’m so glad to see you again, Hanzo. I was beginning to worry that I had lost you.”

He shifts in the wheelchair, shoulders tensing slightly. He takes another sip of tea before he answers her silent query.

“I fear I was almost lost.”

She hums, frowning slightly. The silence stretches on for a few seconds before he draws in a slightly shaky breath. The tension of the past decade floods over him, his mind reeling as he tries to reason through it.

_This is Ana. She is here to help you, not to judge and twist your mind. She is your oldest friend, a trustworthy being!_

“I apologize.”

She huffs, shaking her head.

“For what, habibi? Drinking all my tea? I certainly hope you are not apologizing for ‘burdening me’ with your emotional state, or the happenings of the past few decades.”

He deflates slightly, looking down to his tea as she continues, reaching out to hold his forearm as she continues in a firm, yet soothing tone.

“Now, your files stated that you were recovered in the Deadlock bust. It also said that you have been a captive for twelve years?”

He nods, meeting her eyes.

_When have I last seen her so concerned? She only wants to help you, and there is no shame in her aid, Hazno! You have helped her when she is in need, yes? You should answer her clearly. She cares for you deeply._

“Yes, twelve years. I am not sure how many with Deadlock.”

Realization darkens her expression as she quickly infers the implications of his statement, but she asks the question regardless.

“The clan held you before, then?”

He nods numbly, staring through her.

“And your legs?”

“Yes, the clan took them.”

She tenses suddenly, and he looks up to meet her eyes, the tension fighting with sorrow that begins to swell and crash against his chest. She looks at him with a mix of rage, horror and shock.

“Where is -”

She stops, staring at him with a little spark of hope that slowly dies in the silence.

“Dead.”

He nearly chokes on the word.

“Genji is dead.”

It’s nearly a whisper, the first time he’s said it aloud. He tips forward, clinging to Ana’s open arm as he gasps for air. His tears flow freely from his cheeks now, wet fat drops that fall onto his saucer, pooling in the fine gold details and glistening like diamonds. He gasps in desperation, chest heaving as he feels himself slipping into the deep well of unresolved grief that lies just below the surface of his well-trained countenance. His heart feels too large, and his throat too tight, and the lights far too bright.

Ana stands, pulling away from his grip for a moment only to reappear beside him a second later, pulling him into a tight embrace. He clings to her, his rock in a stormy sea of decades and devastation, even as he feels the hot prickle of her tears against his ear. They cry there together, grief falling like diamond rain as the tea grows cold. They perch there til the tears stop flowing, and then a little while longer. He lets his emotions rage and boil, then slowly fall to a tolerable undercurrent, the numb calm of release and disbelief falling over him.

After many long minutes, he leans back into the chair, Ana releasing him and standing idly for a moment before rambling to the stove and putting the kettle back on. He stares at it blankly as Ana shuffles around, pulling out a lovely green tea. He recognizes the blend immediately, and it instantly brings to mind many chilly evenings full of conversation and warmth.

She walks back to him, replacing the cold remnants of their Earl Grey with the fresh, barely steaming green. They both take a few sips, cathartic after the torrent of grief. Ana peers around the room absentmindedly, then suddenly startles.

“Damn! I’m supposed to meet with Gabriel and Jack soon, I had forgotten! I need to tell them to postpone the debrief.”

She turns to him and frowns in response to his confusion.

“You have no idea who I’m talking about, _of course_.”

He nods his head in agreement and can’t help but smile slightly at her anger. She pulls out a device nearly identical to Jesse’s as she explains.

“Jack and Gabriel are the two strike commanders. Jack heads Overwatch, which I’m sure you have heard of.” He nods as she continues. “Gabriel is the head of Blackwatch, which is the shadow group within Overwatch. They are the ones responsible for the grittier missions, if you will, and are the ones responsible for pulling you from Deadlock.”

“So Jesse is from this Blackwatch?”

She looks up from the device, giving him an ornery grin.

“Why, yes, he is! Why do you bring him up?”

He fights the urge to use his defensive mannerisms, and instead shrugs, trying to brush it off.

“It would be nice to know to which group my interrogator belongs.”

She snorts and grins even more deviously.

“Mmm, and I am thirty-five. But yes, Jesse is in Blackwatch.”

The device buzzes as if on cue, and she looks down to read it, mercifully diverting her attention.

_I do not need her exacerbating the situation, especially now that I may need to more actively negotiate these organizations._

She scowls down at her com, then pushes her chair back as it starts to buzz insistently.

He raises an eyebrow as she holds up a finger, pacing around the table to stand near him in the open space.

“Gabriel?”

An angry, harsh voice roars out of the device.

_“Ana, you have Okami?!”_

She glares at the com, holding it away from her face and spitting out her answer, laced with venom.

“Excuse me, Gabriel?”

**_“Do you have the fucking summoner, Ana?!”_ **

She stares in silence for a split second before her tone and face drops. Her words carry the chill of Duat and the promise of meeting it.

“Why do you want him?”

The other man falls silent for a moment, then muffles the speaker while conversing quietly with someone else. He sighs after a moment, and after some shuffling, another calmer and brighter voice rings through.

_“Hi Ana, sorry about that. It’s very important that we meet with Mr. Okami. Hunter is nearly dead, and Jesse isn’t well. He believes Okami can help?”_

Ana stands silent for a moment, calculating her reply. Finally, she levels her voice, handing him a reply set in stone.

“I will ask him, Jack, but I will not make him do anything he doesn’t wish to, and neither will either of you.”

After a moment of loaded silence on the other end of the line, there is a moment more of shuffling before the first voice is nearly roaring back into the com.

**_“ANA SO HELP ME, IF HE ISN’T DOWN HERE IN -”_ **

Ana glowers as she holds the com out and ends the call. It buzzes a few more times, but she simply tucks it in her pocket.

“I thought you said that these two men were your superior officers?”

She shoots him one of her dangerous, knowing smiles.

“Oh, but of course!”

They both share a moment of tense laughter before the buzzing begins anew. She rolls her eyes and sighs, pulling it out and typing a quick message.

“What would you like to do?”

He speaks before a moment’s contemplation, having decided the moment he heard the man’s name.

“I will see if I can aid Jesse.”

She smiles softly and nods, pressing a button on her com.

“I assumed you would, but it seems Gabriel has forgotten his manners. I’ve informed Reinhardt. He will be accompanying us.”

He nods with a smile, straightening his tie.

_Good. Protection. They wouldn’t enjoy receiving her anger._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi yall! I hope this update finds you well. I'm afraid krill hasn't beta'd this chapter, so there may be more errors than usual. It would seem Hanzo's getting to rest safe and sound for once! Wonder if Jesse is doing the same . . . ;)
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/RBcazfj)  
> https://imgur.com/RBcazfj


	15. Cursed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse and Blackwatch, featuring special guests Jack and Sombra, find themselves between a rock and a hard place.

Jesse wakes up to the feeling of a small bony elbow being shoved into the side of his ribcage. He groans as he opens his eyes to the dull purple glow of a few dozen holoscreens.

“Wakey wakey vaquero!”

He turns his head, neck stiff and protesting, and is greeted by a tiny sassy child holding a juice box and a family sized bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos.

_Yeah, Sombra.   OH. Right. Sombra._

He pulls himself up with a grunt, his back aching from sleeping against a concrete pillar. He scans the room, taking in the situation. The twins and Jack are all piled together in a corner, out cold and snoring quietly. Hunter has been laid out as flat as possible on a small pile of blankets and the twin’s suit jackets. They seem to be drifting in and out of consciousness, breathing heavy and strained. Moira’s expression is grim and angry as she lets loose the occasional spurt of warm yellow light, Fred hovering beside her, gaunt, strained, and a little taller and bonier than what folks would generally deem natural.

_That don’t look any kinda good._

He cracks his neck, pulling his hat on as he tries to get his mind moving. Glancing at his com, he’s not surprised to find that he has no messages.

_Everybody’s here. Still, be nice ta hear some kinda news from Mercy. Okami should be gettin’ fitted tomorrow mornin’. Or has that already happened? I hate timezones._

He looks up, feeling eyes on him. Gabe tilts his head in greeting, waving him over. He obliges, stretching as he ambles towards him, Sombra trotting along at his side, silent as she stuffs her face full of the alarmingly red puffs. He leans against a fairly stable looking pipe as she hops up to perch on the small fold-out card table beside him.

“What’s the situation, jefe?”

Gabe takes a sip out of his own juice box as he turns to the holoscreens, pulling up a still map of the area with a novel’s worth of notes across it.

“This, more or less. We’re looking at about forty hostiles with a pretty large ratio of offense to anything else. Luckily for us, it would seem that we either took out a decent chunk of their medics, or the idiotas didn’t have many to begin with.”

“Mmm, rookie mistake. Either way, good fer us, yeah?”

“Si. We’re also lucky enough that they haven’t found the carrier yet.”

“That’s great news!”

Sombra snorts, smirking up at them.

“Especially when you consider the fact you didn’t even try to hide it, yeah. Fantástico”

Gabe shakes his head, chuckling.

“You can criticize my parking job when you’re tall enough to see over the dashboard, kid.”

She huffs indignantly as she pulls out a roll of Fruit by the Foot to accompany her Cheetos. Gabe grins a bit before he continues. Jesse notes the fond gesture, smiling.

_Well, hope she takes ta bein’ adopted smoother than I did._

Gabe’s tone shifts back to business as he looks around the tiny space.

“Sadly, that’s about all of the good news.” He glances over towards Hunter, Moira, and Fred as he lowers his voice. “In case you couldn’t tell, Hunter is not very well off at all. Moira’s informed me that they’ve been hit by some kind of unusual curse. She doesn’t know how to counteract it, she’s giving it all she’s got just to keep them stable, much less heal them up. She says it’s eating them from the inside out like some kind of magical tapeworm. There’s no way we can move them without a stretcher, and we need to get them to proper medical equipment asap.”

Jesse grimaces at that particular imagery, shaking his head to get rid of the thought.

_Can’t move them without a stretcher, huh? Gonna have ta get a clean wipe. Outnumbered, only got Moira and Jack fer support and it doesn’t look like she can leave. Ain’t gonna be a cakewalk._

“Well, shit. That ain’t good at all. Ya got some kind of a game plan?”

Gabe sighs and nods.

“Some kind is right. Jack and I were at it for six hours or so, and we’ve got a few possible plans.”

“I’m just gonna take a shot in the dark here and guess that none of ‘em are safe n’ easy? Shoot, I’d settle for safe _or_ easy.”

Gabe snorts shaking his head.

“Sorry Jesse, no can do. They’re dangerous at best, deadly at worst.”

Jesse can’t help but grin slightly.

“Now, I coulda come up with that kinda plan!”

Gabe snorts again as he slurps up a hearty gulp from his juice box, smirking around the straw.

“No Jesse, fortunately for all of us, they’re much better than ‘your kind of a plan’.”

He jokingly clutches his heart, looking offended.

“Aw, now that was downright uncalled for! My plans are always constructed with the _finest_ of care and _much_ deliberation!”

Sombra chuckles from the table, as Gabe simply quirks an eyebrow, smiling.

“Hey, I don’t need no commentary from the peanut gallery!”

She laughs out loud at that, slipping off the table and retrieving two more capri suns. She hands one to him before settling back into her rolly chair.

“I think the only nut here is you, cowboy.”

Gabe chuckles, motioning towards her.

“The kid has a point, Jesse.”

Jesse just shakes his head exaggeratedly, tipping his hat back.

“Even my own Pa’s gone ta pickin’ on me.”

They all chuckle as he punches his straw into the strawberry kiwi pouch. He takes a slurp before letting the merriment settle.

“Now, what’re these dangerous n’ deadly plans?”

“Dangerous _to_ deadly, Jesse.”

“Well, _excuuuse_ me!”

Gabe smirks and nods.

“You’re excused. The first and best plan is least dangerous if successful, but could easily go to hell pretty fast if we don’t watch ourselves.” He switches the overlay of notes on the map to a roughly drawn diagram. “This ring represents the outermost perimeter of the enemies surrounding our current position. As you can see by these clusters of dots, the farther out the units are, the fewer there are per group.”

Jesse nods, taking in their positioning.

_Mostly back alleys and courtyards, pretty tight quarters all in all. Be easy enough ta pick the far ones off. If we were comin’ from the carrier, of course._

Gabe adds on another overlay with more paths and symbols.

“Now, the lines in green represent small or unused passageways, like service tunnels, air ducts, and sewage pipes that the enemy does not seem to be aware of or cannot enter.”

He hums, tracing the routes and trying to commit them to memory.

“These lead out behind their lines.”

Gabe grunts in agreement, nodding.

“Exactly. So the plan is this: You and Jack take these passageways to thin out the smaller units in the back. Try to do so with as much stealth and efficiency as possible until you’re down to a few units. By stealthily, I mean absolutely no spurs.” Jesse sticks his lip out, pouting. Gabe just shakes his head. “Then, I want you to take them out as paranormally as possible.”

He pauses after the statement, slightly uneasy. Jesse nods, acting as if the proposal doesn’t rattle him. It was a tactic they used often on more-or-less regular joes. If they heard guttural noises and strange phrases instead of gunfire in last communications, they were more likely to come in to investigate scared and off-kilter instead of fully alert. After several investigative teams don’t return, it generally draws the full attention of the enemy, leaving plenty of space to attack from the rear.

_Must be in a tight spot after all, or he wouldn’t be askin’._

“After you’ve thinned them sufficiently, Fred, the twins, and myself will approach. Once we get the majority of them in that central area, Jack and I will use our ults to take out as many as possible. If we continue to have a major problem, you should be able to take out the stragglers.”

He frowns slightly.

“What if I don’t have any line of sight?”

Gabe nods wordlessly in Fred’s direction. Jesse’s eyebrows shoot up, and he cocks his head in silent concern.

_Is that really a good idea? You remember what happened last time._

He shrugs and takes another slurp from his juice box. Jesse shifts his weight uneasily.

_Guess we really are between a rock and a hard place. Gonna have ta do my best ta keep it from that. Probably doesn’t have a backup plan if that’s the first._

“Allrighty. So what’s plan B?”

Gabe chuckles darkly, pulling a handful of Cheetos out of Sombra’s bag. She squawks in dismay, scooching back on the table and holding it at arm’s length away from him.

“Plan B is we run in all guns blazing, with Jack making a full-on sprint for the carrier to provide aerial backup.”

He grimaces.

_Sloppy, and hard ta cover up. Would totally tip off the folks in charge of this auction, couldn’t just blame this incident on Sombra then. So really, no backup plan._

“So we just got the one plan then?”

Gabe nods his head smiling darkly.

“You got a better one?”

Jesse pulls his thumbs out of his belt loops, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.

“Hey now, they pay you ta plan, not me! I’m just here ta shoot things and look devilishly handsome as I ride triumphant inta the sunset.”

Gabe muffles a bark of laughter, devolving into stifled giggles.

“Sure you do, Jessito.”

He looks the map over again a few more times as Gabe wheedles the kid into giving him a bag of Takis, which she pretends to hand to him only to then hand them to Jesse. He blinks and then laughs at Gabe’s betrayed look.

“So when are we puttin’ this plan in action?”

“Dusk.”

Jesse snorts and can’t help but roll his eyes.

“Shoulda known.”

Sombra pipes up, raising an eyebrow and smirking as she gestures towards him.

“Says the man who plans everything at noon.”

They both look at her before breaking into wheezing, muffled laughter.

          ------- oOo -------

Jesse glances towards Jack as he carefully lowers the last body from their latest skirmish to the ground, the only sound the quiet flapping of his and Jack’s gear in the soft sea breeze. So far, they had cut through the perimeter groups easier than a hot knife through butter. In less than fifteen minutes, they had taken out over half of the enemy, with essentially no damage to themselves.

Jesse silently thanks the powers that be that none of their adversaries had the foresight or knowledge to carry ash around.

_Never can be too sure in this hemisphere._

He paces over to Jack, too aware of the lack of jangling spurs.

_Don’t care if it is a stealth mission, a man still needs ta keep up his image!_

Jack crouches over a slender man with a gaudy oni tattoo on his calves. He grins after searching for a few moments, pulling out a small stack of parchment slips with spells inscribed on them. Jesse nods in appreciation as Jack pockets them.

“Figured they could come in handy later. How are you holding up, Vaquero?”

“Well enough, thanks. You?”

Jack chuckles, looking to his com for their next target.

“Plenty well. It takes more than these guys can dish out to put a dent in _this_ soldier.”

Jesse grins and shakes his head. He would have taken the statement for bravado a few days ago, but fighting alongside Jack was proving it to be a fact.

_Shoulda known, what with Gabe bein’ a super soldier too. Still, wild ta see it in a human._

He watches idly as Jack tilts his head, studying his com screen intently. So far, all the tactical decisions he’d made that night had been wildly successful. Every move he made, from which group they would target next to the smallest footstep was calculated and precise. It was like watching a chess master play against kindergarteners.

_But with guns and a whole lotta strength. Startin’ ta understand why Gabe’s so head over heels for ya. Tall, blonde, and muscly, got the sweetness and the smarts. And that farmboy charm. Just his type, really. Wonder what he’s decided ta do about a ring._

Jack suddenly frowns, interrupting his train of thought as he hooks an arm across his shoulders, dragging them both down. He hears the quiet “woosh” of a blade arcing over their heads. His training kicks in as he jams a foot back towards the noise.

His heel connects to something hard. The distictive crunch of bone confirms contact, and Jack rises into an uppercut beside him. His fist connects with the chin of a second enemy armed with two nasty knives.

Jesse turns to face his target, shocked by the sight in front of him.

_A fuckin’ ninja? When did I step inta an anime?_

He rolls to the side, barely avoiding the man’s blade. He curses, taking another swing at Jesse. He barely manages to misdirect the blow with his gun, flicking it off to the side.

It sparks and skitters across the stone wall where he had been a second before. The ends of their sleeve ties whip past him, brushing his cheek. He grabs one, yanking their kidney into his armored knee.

They crumple, reeling back, but manage to jab a clawed fist into the inside of his elbow. Grunting, he takes a step back. They rush him and get a face full of flashbang. He grins with long gritted teeth, already moving.

_How’s that fer ninja tricks?_

He beams them with his pistol, then grabs their head with a taloned hand. He quickly smashes it into the wall, once, and then again.

A moment later, he releases his grip as they fall limp and lifeless to the ground. A red smear of blood follows them down.

Behind him, Jack lets out a grunts as another body hits the ground. The warm glow of a biotic field blooms around them, seeping into his bruises and cuts. He cracks his shoulder and shakes his slowly numbing arm as he studies the swordsman.

_Mid 30’s, muscular build, tiger tattoo. One sword and  -_ He awkwardly turns the body over with the toe of his boot - _Two throwing knives. No sign of magic._

He pauses for a moment, tilting his head before he stoops and pulls a ribbon from their waist. The gold patterned silk glimmers in the fading light, pooling like water in the palm of his hand. He tucks it into his pocket before he turns to Jack, quickly inspecting the barrel of his gun.

_Shit, bastard scratched it good. Better n’ me I guess._

Jack looks up to him after a moment, his lip split and his fist covered in blood. He’s fairly certain it’s not Jack’s.

“Looks like they’re catching on to us.”

He nods grimly, tucking his gun back into his holster.

“You ready to implement the next stage, Vaquero?”

Jesse grimaces slightly.

“Yeah, I reckon.”

He tilts his hat back, staring up at the faint stars and sickle moon. He blinks back at them, the cold salty air settling in the folds of his cloak. Of his skin. Jack’s expression shifts from focused soldier to slightly confused and concerned friend.

“You alright?”

He closes his eyes and replies a bit snappier than intended.

“I’m fine.”

Jack merely nods, then shuffles a foot as he looks to the ground.

“I can turn around if you’d like.”

Jesse glances towards him, mildly surprised by the sentiment.

“Thank ya.”

The fighting didn’t last long after Jesse got to work. He had torn through half of their remaining enemies, shifting to meet every adversary with claws, fangs, and vacant blood-red eyes.

He’d stared into their eyes as he killed them with the speed of wild horses, the strength of bears, and the calculation of coyotes. He’d felt their fear, lulled some into a false sense of calm with a measured look. They barely had the chance to fight back.

The ones that did, their bullets and knives flowing past and through him as he shifted from one form to another, might as well have stood still. Only one had really hit him, a spellcaster with dark, wide eyes and a mouth that spewed frantic spells laced with rage and fear.

He had felt their flesh give way beneath his talons as he spiraled, and the smell of their blood clung to him like a skunk’s as he moved on to the next one, side searing. One after another hit the ground after, their spirit gone, their eyes flickering out like traffic lights, blinking until they fell dim.

He cannot tell you much of what happened.

He pulls his head up from the body he crouches over now, long maw covered in hot blood. Gabe’s shotguns fire once, twice, thrice, and then go silent. His com crackles to life, the familiar tone of Gabe’s voice tinged with gunpowder and smoke.

_“Allright boys, that’s the last of them.”_

The twins cheer as Jack chimes in with a quick ‘copy that’. He merely grunts in confirmation, limping towards the team as the fog of the battle begins to pass. His front arm-turned-leg still tingles from the blow he received earlier, compounded by the force of the unusual spell-based blow that clipped his entire side. His thoughts begin to reform in the silence.

_Fuckin’ odd magic blasts ta hit me so hard. Not sure if I can stand on two legs. Shoulda been watchin’ for it. They did take Hunter out of commission. Shit, hope it ain’t the same curse._

Panting from the stress of battle, he reaches the perimeter of the courtyard in front of Lumierico, hovering in the shadows as Jack trots over to Gabe, smiling. The two exchange a few words, laughing and hugging. Gabe’s face is bathed in pure bliss and moonlight. It’s downright sappy.

_Pity Fred ain’t here, he could stand ta take notes. Hell, I could stand ta take notes. Not that I got anyone. But still._

_Hope Okami’s doin’ well._

After wavering on the edge of the courtyard for a moment, Nick notices him and snorts, waving him over to the team. Nate mimics the motion.

“Listen, if I have to endure this display of ooey-gooey affection, you do too!”

He huffs in amusement, shaking his head as he limps over. As he enters the light, he’s all too aware of the blood dripping from his mouth and too-long paws. Gabe turns to him as his claws clack against the pavestones, and he kneels to greet him. He cocks his head in a hello, sitting in front of him. Gabe leans to inspect his side, and he notices Jack adamantly staring at a lamppost.

“That doesn’t look good.”

Jesse snorts and flicks his head.

_Ya don’t say?_

“Can you walk back to the carrier on your own?”

He bobs his head in an awkward yes, and Gabe mimics the motion.

“Got it.” He turns to the twins and Jack as he turns towards the building. “Keep an eye on things here, I don’t want to get last second trouble from the locals.”

Nate looks around, giving a small nod in agreement.

“Definitely wouldn’t be great. We’ll keep an eye on it.”

Gabe nods once, relocating into the building as the twins split, walking the perimeter. After a moment of silence, Jesse trots beside Jack and lays down, careful not to put too much weight on his injured limbs. Jack looks to him, surprised. He crouches down beside him almost immediately, resting his gun on his shoulder. He feels the warmth of the biotic field settle into his wounds, fighting the residual magic. Lifting his head, he’s pleasantly surprised to see Jack staring up at the stars instead of at him.

_You really are just a simple kinda guy, aintchya?_

He joins him after a moment, staring up at the sparkling night. After a second of dread, he shifts back into himself and winces as his left side throbs against the unforgiving stones. Jack looks down to him as he groans, surprise flitting across his face for the second time in less than a minute. Jesse gives him a half-hearted smile.

“Heal faster like this.”

Jack blinks and nods in understanding.

“So nothing you can’t heal?”

“Yeah. Got hit by some weird shit, givin’ me a bit of trouble, so it might take a while.”

_I think._

“Mmm.”

Jack looks around, brow furrowed.

“It doesn’t quite feel right.”

“What don’t?”

Jack motions vaguely at the eliminated enemies around them, summing up the whole auction situation in one sweep of his arm. He lets the uneasy silence hang for moment before he bobs his head in agreement.

“Naw, it doesn’t.”

The both look back to the sky, and he lets his subconscious process the thought as his conscious is busy worrying over his throbbing side. He can feel the now-familiar itch of his body trying to take care of the injury, accelerated even more by the field. Jack breaks the silence, still staring up.

“Thanks, by the way.” He pauses for a moment, then continues, tone softer. “Gabe told me you don’t like doing that.”

Jesse can’t help but smile a bit.

“I don’t mind if it’s fer a good reason.”

Jack looks to him at that, smiling.

“Glad to hear it.” He frowns, nervously switching his gun to the other shoulder. “Mind if I ask you a question?”

He turns his head slightly to look up at him.

“Naw, I don’t mind.”

“Were you a dire wolf?”

He grins slightly, looking back up to the stars.

“Mmm-hmmm.”

“H- how? Aren’t they extinct?”

Jesse just chuckles, pulling out an old joke.

“Yeah, and so are cowboys, but here I am.”

Jack laughs softly, but doesn’t press any further. Jesse smiles in appreciation, and supplies a bit more of an answer.

“That bein’ said, I picked up both tricks on a ranch in Utah.”

Jack hums in contemplation as he stares into somewhere and time that wasn't there and now. Minutes tick by as he lays on the lumpy pavestones, trying not to fixate on burning pain in his side.

_Is it spreadin’? Naw, probably just in yer head, Jesse. Wonder how long this’ll take ta heal up. Be nice ta see Okami sooner rather than later when we get back. We’ll need ta get Hunter and Sombra sorted first, of course. Hope he don’t begrudge me fer breakin’ our lunch arrangement._

The sound of quick footsteps pulls them both to attention, guns drawn and aimed. After a moment, Jesse registers the approacher.

“Sorry to interrupt your dreamy stargazing, but it’s finally time for you guys get me out of here.”

Jack grins and stands, holstering his rifle.

“You’re welcome, kiddo.”

She laughs, shaking her head.

“You should be thanking me! After all, I got caught digging up stuff for you guys. I even had to feed you! And call me ‘kiddo’ again and I’ll send the UN the video of you dancing at the Christmas party.”

Jack tilts his head back, laughing and ruffling her hair.

“Go ahead kiddo, I have no shame.”

Gabe chuckles, shaking his head as he joins them.

“You should! You dance like an arthritic dad, 76.”

Jesse groans in agreement and pain as chuckles, his ribs throbbing in protest. After deciding he didn’t want to hear any commentary on his _own_ moves at the last Christmas party, he tries to get up and escape. He puts a little weight on his leg only to collapse back in a heap as searing pain ripples up his side.

“Fuckin’ hell!”

Gabe stops mid-teasing to shoot him a warning.

“Language, Vaquero, there’s-”

He barks out his reply.

“I get the feelin’ she’s heard it before, jefe.”

Gabe’s biting tone evaporates as he takes a good look at him. He shakes his head, frowning.

“Que dios me ayude, Vaquero, I should know by now. You really need to stop downplaying your level of injury.”

He grins through gritted teeth as he carefully flops on his back, holding his hat on his chest.

“Wasn’t this bad a couple of minutes ago. And anyway, ain’t nothin’ I can’t bounce back from.”

_Least, I hope so._

Gabe lets out a long-suffering sigh as he shakes his head.

“That’s no excuse.”

“Well _, you_ use it often enough.”

Jack chuckles.

“He’s got a point, Reaper.”

Gabe snorts and smiles fondly as he stoops beside him.

“Aw, c’mon 76, help me out here. And Vaquero, how many times have I told you to do what I say and not what I do?”

Jesse chuckles, closing his eyes.

“More’n I can keep track of, Pa.”

“Allright, now stop procrastinating and shift into something manageable. You know I’m not letting you walk like this.”

He shoots a worried look towards Sombra, and Gabe grins, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep a handle on her.”

Sombra turns to him, frowning.

“Keep a handle on who now?”

Gabe waves her question away, looking to Jesse.

“Fine, gimme a sec.”

Sombra watches from over Gabe’s shoulder, curiosity written across her deceptively cherubic face. He exhales and shifts, and the world seems to get ten times larger. He hears a muffled squeal and watches as Sombra does a squirmy little dance.

“Aaaah! Es tan lindo! Such a tiny fox!”

Gabe snorts as he picks him up, nestling him in his hood.

“Si es muy pequeño.”

“Can I pe-”

Moira cuts her short as she and Fred emerge with Hunter on a stretcher.

“No you may not.”

She sticks her tongue out at Moira before looking up to Gabe with pleading eyes. He turns to take over Moira’s hold on the stretcher.

“Can’t I pet him just a little bit?”

Moira chuckles, shaking her head.

“Absolutely not. He’s not fond of people manhandling him, _especially_ when he’s small. Trust me young one, Oi speak from experience.”

Moira frowns a bit at the last statement, subconsciously rubbing her hand. Jesse lets out a small chirp of amusement. She’d made the mistake of trying to pick him up while he was hiding away napping in the laundry. She’d sulked about the incident for weeks, claiming that she thought he was just an escaped test subject of hers. He had argued that was all the more reason to bite. Everyone had agreed with him, and the twins were quick to point out that she didn’t even have a fox. She’d merely huffed after that, and never brought it up again.

They trot towards the carrier slowly, Gabe and Jack chatting about the mission and future paperwork as they carry the stretcher. Fred hovers beside them, full of nervous energy. He’s at least a foot taller than usual, the beginnings of antlers sprouting from his skull. Moira keeps muttering soothing words as she keeps as steady a healing stream as she can maintain on Hunter. The words seem to be more for Fred, though.

_They sure as hell ain’t registerin’ anything she’s sayin’. Don’t think I’ve ever seen Hunter look this bad off, actually. Sure Mercy and Moira’ll be able ta sort it out though. They always do._

His hopes seem emptier than usual as he watches their face, contorted in pain and pale, even while unconscious. He tucks further into Gabe’s hood, curling up against the pain. Every step Gabe takes sends hot spurts of pain through his ribs and limbs.

After what seems like hours of walking over the roughly paved roads, they finally reach the carrier. Moira directs the team, and they have Hunter in a cot in less than a minute. Soon, the familiar, if less than soothing sounds of medical equipment fills the cargo hold. Gabe carefully removes Jesse from his hood, setting him down on one of the carrier seats.

He perches on it, thankful for the lack of movement. Gabe gives him a small, worried smile and a single pat on the head.

“We’ll be back before you know it, Jessito. Hang in there.”

He turns, ducking into the cockpit. Jack follows him as the rest of the team straps in, preparing for takeoff. Sighing, he flops around in the seat before shifting, his spurs jingling at the transition. He smiles slightly at the sound, and pulls his hat low over his eyes as he leans his head forward. The pull of unconsciousness tugs at his eyelids, and he lets them slip shut as the engines whir to life, breathing labored. He tries to think, keeping his mind alert as he slips.

_Got her out, and we’ll get more info on this auction situation. That’s real good. Hunter ain’t doin’ well at all, and ya got yourself hurt. Not good._

His fingers brush against something smooth and cool in his pocket. His lip twitches up as he holds it tight.

_Got a hair ribbon fer Okami too. Hope he likes. Seems fancy, and he’s refined and all._

He smiles absentmindedly as the beep of the heart monitor and thrum of the engines push him into black.

          ------- oOo -------

_The radio crackles in and out as he drives down the dusty highway. Lightning slashes across the length of his rearview mirror, and nearly half a minute ticks by before he hears the roll of thunder. The dust billows up behind him as he rides ahead of it._

_He rests his numbing left arm against the windowsill of his truck, humming to the tinny tune barely eking through the speakers of his ancient truck. He glances back again at the storm chasing him before he notices the figure at the side of the road. He slows down as he gets closer, stopping for the raised thumb. The kid grins and pulls the door open, sliding into the other side of the bench seat._

_“Thanks! I’ve been waiting out there for ages! It’s stupidly hot out.”_

_Jesse chuckles and nods, giving him a once over as he climbs back up to speed. His shockingly green hair almost burns his eyes against the dull golden browns of the horizon and the dusty brown seats. He yanks at the buckle, pulling it over an ancient Sailor Moon shirt._

_“What brings you all the way out here?”_

_The kid grins, propping his feet up on the dashboard. Thunder rolls, ever closer._

_“Shouldn’t you be asking yourself that, Jesse?”_

_He frowns, glancing at his gun in the door pocket. His arm and side begin to ache. The stranger laughs like chirping birds in morning dew._

_“I’m not here to kill you or anything, jeez.” He grins as he crosses his arms behind his head. “Not that I blame you. I get it.”_

_He hums  and pushes the pedal down farther as the storm rushes closer. His side throbs now, burning. The kid motions towards it._

_“Your side, that’s not fun.”_

_He grunts, nodding._

_“Yeah, don’t feel great, that’s fer sure.”_

_“Your friend’s really in trouble, though. Like, I can do something with you, but them, they’re too far gone for me to do anything about. It’s going to eat them alive if no one stops it.”_

_He scowls, pushing the pedal down even further as the wind starts to whip around the truck._

_“Eat them alive?”_

_He nods, tilting his head back._

_“Yup. It’s not going to be pretty, either. Really bad way to go. But like I said, I’ll help you, and I think I know someone to help them._

_Jesse frowns in consternation and agitation, shifting a bit._

_“How? And who? And fer that matter, who the hell are you and what do you know about all this?!”_

_The stranger just shakes his head, smiling and unphased._

_“I’m going to suspend the spell you got hit with for a little while, but you need to talk to Okami as soon as possible. He can help you and your friend.”_

_“Okami? What does he have ta do wi -”_

_His voice is drowned out by the thunder. The lightning behind them frames the strangers face, and for a moment, Jesse is staring into the eyes of a dragon. He stares dumbstruck, then snaps his eyes back to the road ahead as his tires skid. He’s run off the road into the sand._

_“Just get to Okami. Oh, and I think he’ll like that hair ribbon.”_

_When he turns back to question him, the boy has vanished._

          ------- oOo -------

He awakes to the chatter of the landing crew outside the cargo door, pushing his hat up to get a glimpse of blindingly white snow as the hangar door closes. Groaning, he sits up in his seat, rubbing his head like it would help him make sense of the bizarre dream, or vision, or whatever it was. The twins rush past him, helping to carry Hunter’s stretcher out.

He hears Mercy conversing with Moira, a rush of medical jargon he doesn’t hope to keep up with. He does manage to pick his name out of it, and takes note of Mercy’s worried glance. He gives her a short wave, and is suddenly very aware of the fact that he is caked in blood, most of it other people’s.

Gabe and Jack emerge from the cockpit, Gabe making a beeline for Hunter. Jack follows, but then stops in front of him.

“How are you, Jesse?”

He tilts his hat back, grinning up at him.

“Bit out of sorts, but not too shabby. Yourself?”

“Allright, thanks. Can you get out on your own?”

He frowns, then pushes himself up experimentally. Much to his surprise, his side feels much better than it rightfully should. It must have shown on his face. Jack raises an eyebrow as he jumps experimentally.

“Seems you’re pretty well.”

He frowns, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, so it does.”

“You don’t seem very happy about that.”

“I’m not. I shouldn’t be this well. Blacked out on the plane and -” He steps out of the carrier and is immediately blasted by the freezing air of the hangar. It seeps into his bones, alerting him to his other minor injuries. “Holy – Sonofabitch- remind me why our base is in Switzerland?!”

Gabe merely chuckles, shaking his head.

“Good to see you up and moving, Jessito.”

Mercy nods, flitting over.

“I must agree!”

She looks him up and down before frowning.

“You seem very well from what I had been told. Moira assessed that you had been hit with the same spell as Hunter.”

“Trust me, I didn’t expect ta feel this good either. I’ll fill yall in in a bit, but we’d best get Hunter to the med bay. I got a bad feelin’ about this.”

Gabe frowns at that, and Mercy nods grimly. She runs back to Hunter’s stretcher as they transfer them to a gurney. Gabe jogs back into the carrier and emerges with a sleeping Sombra in his arms. They all pace through the halls, people shooting them odd looks until they notice the Strike Commander beside them. Their gazes turn quickly, then, and the bustling halls part for the gurney. After a few minutes of jogging, they finally reach the med bay.

Moira and Mercy rush Hunter into the emergency wing, gently pushing Fred back from the doors. The twins calmly take his arms, leading him back into the waiting area, and then slowly walking him out into the hallway. Jesse watches with a smile as they exert the little power they have to lull him into a calm stupor.

_Thanks fellas, I got somethin’ else ta attend to._

Jack and Gabe talk quietly for a few minutes before the leader of Blackwatch’s second squad arrives, carefully taking the sleeping Sombra. The two sit beside him, chatting for a moment before Mercy reappears to talk to Gabe behind the doors of the emergency wing. She’s sprouted several rings, and her six wings flap in agitation.

Jack talks to him without looking at him, voice tense and full of concern

“That magic seems to really be doing a number on them, huh?”

He grunts and nods in agreement.

“Aint’ good. Hunter’s got some pretty good wards.”

“Hmm. Not good at all, then.”

He looks around for a while before turning to face Jesse, a little fearful.

“You got hit with that curse?”

“Sure did. Got hit down my whole left side, started ta burn like hellfire when were takin’ off.”

“Huh. But now you’re alright now?”

The door swings open again, and they turn to see Gabe pacing out, intensely worried. He looks to Jesse immediately, and Jack follows suit.

“What’s going on Jessito?”

Frowning slightly, he leans forward in his chair, holding his hat as he scratches his head.

“Well, I ain’t entirely sure myself. I got hit by that same curse, least I’m pretty sure it’s the same. Was really startin’ ta kick in as we were shippin’ out, made me pass out eventually. Then I had one hell of a dream.”

“A dream?”

“Or vision, or guide, or - somethin’. I picked up this hitchhiker out in the Mojave, was drivin’ from a storm. He knew my name, and said he could help me, but not Hunter. Said I needed to see Okami as soon as I could, that he would help. Don’t remember much more than that, but as you can see, I ain’t nearly as bad as I was when I got on the carrier.”

Jack tilts his head, puzzled and slightly disbelieving. Gabe merely nods.

“Then we’d better get you to Okami.”

He and Jack rise, following Gabe past the doors. Jesse soon takes the lead, jogging down the halls on the ever more familiar path to Okami’s room. Despite the seriousness of his and Hunter’s situation, he finds himself extremely excited to see the man again. As they turn the last corner to his room, he runs his hand over the ribbon in his pocket, smiling.

_Be nice ta see him again, even if it is a bit dire. Hope they treated him all right over the past couple of days._

His smile and excitement vanishes as he opens the door to find the room empty. Jack and Gabe run into him, and they all stumble past the doorframe. They all glance around for a moment, dumbstruck. Finally, Gabe speaks, anger lacing his voice.

**_“Where the fuck is he?!”_ **

 

 

 

 

 

 

[](https://imgur.com/E6P4uxM)

[](https://imgur.com/zEX8xDZ)

[](https://imgur.com/NVAsyga)

[](https://imgur.com/M74dxsi)

[](https://imgur.com/29QbyZu)

[](https://imgur.com/sonYddM)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry for the slight delay in chapter release, I had to go out of town unexpectedly. The good news is, the long car trip gave me some time to make a bit of bonus content, as you may have noticed! Once again, I would like to send a super huge thanks to Krill for their work beta-ing this! They really manage to keep this fic polished!
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/ePh39UK)  
> https://imgur.com/ePh39UK
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/TReC0gm)  
> https://imgur.com/TReC0gm
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/Xv5HlVt)  
> https://imgur.com/Xv5HlVt
> 
> The comic pages:  
> https://imgur.com/E6P4uxM  
> https://imgur.com/zEX8xDZ  
> https://imgur.com/NVAsyga  
> https://imgur.com/M74dxsi  
> https://imgur.com/29QbyZu  
> https://imgur.com/sonYddM


	16. Call me Hanzo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse is in quite the predicament, but at least he has a knight in shining armor. Or more, a samurai in a business suit.

They had spent a few moments trying to plan their next move before they had all agreed that there was no way Okami could have gotten out without someone realizing he was gone. They then arrived at the conclusion that if anyone knew where he was, Mercy would. At least, that’s what Jesse tells himself as they nearly sprint back to the emergency med wing, Jack and Gabe easily bypassing and nearly bowling over all of the security in their way.

He shoots the guards they bypass a quick smile and apologetic wave as they rush on. Most of them wave back, smiling and somewhat puzzled. Gabe is the first to burst through the door, startling quite a few personnel. They trot over to Mercy and Moira, who continue to bark orders to the medical team.

Jack gently puts a hand on Gabe’s arm, keeping him from butting between the nurses hovering over Hunter. Jesse clears his throat loudly, and Mercy spins on her heels, anger flaring up in her multitude of eyes.

“Jesse, what are you doing back here?! You know that this area is strictly off-limits for non-medical personnel!”

She pulls down her surgical mask, frowning as she looks past him to the commanders.

“And you two? What is going on here?”

Gabe’s attention has wandered to Hunter and their dropping vitals. A deep teal, nearly black fluid is oozing from their chest, and their whimpers of pain cut through the sounds of the medical equipment like a razor.

_ Gonna have nightmares about this one, either way it turns out. Please don’t die on us. _

Jack speaks up for the trio.

“We have a lead on how to help them, but we need Okami. Do you know where he is?”

She blinks, face contorting from frustration to confusion as her rings pause in their orbit.

“Okami? Oh, yes, Okami. He can assist? How?”

Jack shrugs as he replies.

“No idea, but Jesse’s got a hunch. Where is he?”

She frowns, her primary eyes flitting to Jesse for a moment as the others continue to assess Hunter.

“He is in Ana’s care. She came to assist me with his prosthetic fitting. Apparently, they know one another.”

They both stare at her for a moment before Jack slowly nods.

_ Wonder how they know each other. She really gets around, hard ta say. Really hard ta tell if she knows him pre-Overwatch. _

“All right. We’ll get a hold of her then. Thanks.”

She nods, then shoos them towards the door, rings spiraling in agitation.

“You’re welcome. Now get out of here, and don’t come barging back in unless you can help! I don’t need you holding things up!”

Jesse feigns a smile, tipping his hat as he backs out of the door.

“Yes ma’am, we’ll be sure ta do that!”

She’s turned back to her work before he finishes the statement, floating over Hunter in agitation. He and Jack coax a vacant, staring Gabe out and into the hallway. After a few moments of walking, Gabe blinks, looking to the two of them with grave concern carved into his face.

“Ana has him?”

Jack nods once, checking his com.

“She should be in your office soon, we were scheduled to debrief in ten.”

Gabe nods, picking up the pace as he changes course for his office. They arrive at the office a few minutes later, Jack and Jesse helping to tidy up the stacks of books and files. Jesse’s moving a large stack of old textbooks when Gabe’s com buzzes once. He springs to answer it. After quickly reading it, he growls in frustration. Jack voices the question on both of their minds.

“What is it?”

He doesn’t bother to look up, furiously navigating the menus of his com.

“Ana. She’s trying to push back the debrief while she should have been here already!” He pushes her contact forcefully. “What the hell does she think she’s doing taking our people out of their chambers without permission anyway? Knowing someone does not give her fucking permission to just do whatever she wants! And she can’t just decide she doesn’t like the time of a debrief, especially for an emergency mission!”

_ Uh-oh. This ain’t gonna go well. Ana ain’t gonna take that kinda lip, and he knows it. _

Jack lays a steadying hand on his shoulder as he looks to Gabe.

“Gabe, you really shouldn’t -”

He’s cut short by the sound of Ana picking up her com. Gabe nearly shouts into the receiver.

 “Ana, you have Okami?!”

Jack and Jesse hold their breath, staring at him in mild disbelief. Her voice crackles out from the tiny speaker, dangerous and clipped even through the distortion of speakerphone.

_  “Excuse me, Gabriel?” _

Gabe roars in reply, face strained and frustrated.

**“Do you have the fucking summoner, Ana?!”**

_ Well. Fuck me and Hunter then, I guess. _

A moment of silence, then her reply comes like a death threat.

_ “Why do you want him?” _

Gabe suddenly blinks, staring at the com with a mix of rage and recently remembered fear. Jack reaches over, gently covering the mic with his hand.

“I think you’d better let me talk to her, sweetheart.”

Gabe flounders for a moment, looking between him and Jesse. He looks up to him, shooting him a wavering smile and a nod. He releases the com, and Jack gently holds it to his face as if it was a bomb.

_ Might as well be. _

 “Hi Ana, sorry about that. It’s very important that we meet with Mr. Okami. Hunter is nearly dead, and Jesse isn’t well. He believes Okami can help?”

Another moment of silence. Gabe stares down at his desk as he grips the edge, tense and older looking than he was just a few hours ago.

_ “I will ask him, Jack, but I will not make him do anything he doesn’t wish to, and neither will either of you.” _

They all stare at the com, then he and Jack look to Gabe. His mouth hangs open, his face growing increasingly red and desperate. He snatches the com violently, roaring into it

**_“ANA SO HELP ME, IF HE ISN’T DOWN HERE IN -”_ **

The com clicks as Ana abruptly hangs up on them. Gabe roars, slamming his fist on his desk and sending a precarious stack of papers toppling. Jesse winces at the sound, but Jack stands unmoving and calm. After a moment, Gabe’s rage crumbles, and Jack reaches out, enveloping him in a hug. He sobs in frustration.

“Maldición!”

“I know Gabe, I know. It’s gonna be alright.” Jack looks over Gabe’s shoulder at him as he says it. “It’ll be alright, I’m sure. If I know Ana, she wouldn’t be this protective of someone coldhearted enough to not help  _ Jesse _ , of all people. He’s a good kid, it’s hard to miss that. And if he helps Jesse, I’m sure he’ll help Hunter.”

Gabe chokes on another mangled sob or two as he nods in agreement. He straightens up after a few long seconds, looking Jack in the eyes and smiling meekly.

“You’re probably right Jackie. She doesn’t defend total assholes.”

Jesse wheezes out a laugh, grinning up as they both turn to him, curious.

“Dunno, she seems ta stick up fer you two plenty often.”

Gabe snorts, slowly grinning as Jack starts to giggle.

“Si, and you’re a total saint.”

He grins, laughing.

“Mmm-hmm. They’re definitely gonna canonize me when I finally bite the dust.” He holds out his hand, motioning broadly towards the imaginary plaque. “Jesse McCree, longsuffering cowboy, saint of all dumbasses and big-hat-wearers.”

They all grin and laugh, Gabe patting him on the shoulder and shaking his head. He blinks after a moment, pulling out his buzzing com. He flicks it open, reading the incoming message to himself. Jesse holds his breath.

_ Please Okami, I know yer a decent fella. Scared and guarded, but decent, yeah? Hunter really needs yer help, even if ya don’t know them. I really hope I got him right. _

“It’s Rein. He says they’re coming as fast as they can.” The com buzzes again, and Gabe sighs. “He says Ana’s extremely pissed.”

Jack chuckles and shakes his head.

“Guess it’s as good a day to die as any.” 

Jesse sits in the corner of the couch, his leg crossed loosely over his knee. He taps a rhythm out against the armrest, and bumps his hat up with his other hand. Despite everything, he finds himself in quite the good mood.

_ Knew Okami’d come through. He really does seem ta be a decent fella. Good he’s in a better situation. Should help him with the mental shit. Be nice ta meet him on a leveler field, really get ta chat without havin’ ta wheedle out the info. Shoot, might even get ta take him ta lunch yet. Well. Assumin’ he wants anythin’ ta do with ya, Jesse. Ya are kinda wrapped up in his situation. _

He smile falters at the thought, and the three anxiously look to the door as it swings open.

Reinhardt stands in the hall, propping it open from the top. Ana smiles up at him as she strides through.

“Thank you, dear.”

He simply grins, bowing his head as he continues to hold the door open. Ana shoots a look at Gabe before she turns her attention back to the hall as Okami comes into view, carefully negotiating the narrow door frame. Jesse feels his breath catch and his face turn red.

_ Lord have MERCY! I ain’t  _ **_ever_ ** _ seen a man better made to wear a suit! And he’s got the sleeves cuffed, and the collar, and - Who even decided it was legal ta look that good?! Oh, and of course I’m over here lookin’ like death eatin’ a cracker and covered in God knows what. Probably smell like a sewer too. And he only knows ya as the guy who’s been tryin’ ta get his info. Ain’t that just my luck. _

He almost groans, actually a bit glad to have the blood on his face and his injuries for cover. Okami peers around the tiny office, scanning the unfamiliar faces with total neutrality. He locks eyes with Jesse, holding the contact for a moment before he inclines his head in the slightest bow. Jesse grins ear to ear, mimicking the motion. His hat nearly falls off in the process.

_ Great, now ya look even more ridiculous. _

Okami turns as Gabe breaks the silence, speaking to Ana.

“Glad to see you finally decided to show up.”

She shoots him a dangerously sharp smile.

“Trust me, I would not be here if leveler heads did not step in.”

She gestures to Okami with the statement. Gabe blinks, then looks to Okami for the first time.

“Is that so?”

She nods curtly, and Jack jumps in, smiling and extending his hand to Okami.

“Then I figure we owe you a thank you! I’m Jack Morrsion, by the way. I take it you’re Mr. Okami?”

Okami raises a single eyebrow as he ignores the hand, inclining his head instead. He tilts his chin up, perfectly poised and powerful, and completely disinterested.

“Mmm. The Strike Commanders, yes. I am aware”

_ Told y’all he was good at this kinda thing. Ain’t gonna let anything slip he don’t want to. _

Jack falters a bit, clumsily attempting to return the bow as Okami speaks. He turns his attention to Jesse, to the surprise and mild dismay of both commanders. Ana smirks and laughs slightly, covering the gesture with a yawn. Okami carefully negotiates around the desk and coffee table, coming face to face with him and turning his back to the commanders.

_ And there’s another power play. He’s got to have been in some shady business before. _

Okami leans back in the chair, easily resting his arms and tilting his head up. He begins to speak to him like they had known each other for years and were chatting idly over coffee. Jesse feels his heart speed up and his cheeks flush even more.

“Jesse, how are you? I understand you and your friend have been hit by a spell?”

“U- uh, yeah, we did. Get hit that is. By a curse. Well, and other stuff too, sure. But the curse’s the problem, ya see. Moi- uh, O’Deorain can’t seem ta break it and it’s eatin’ them up.”

Okmai blinks, processing the stream-of-consciousness information. Ana smirks and Gabe cracks a grin despite everything, obviously seeing his building embarrassment for what it was.

_ Great Jesse, now ya look like ya don’t even know how ta speak, and they know somethin’s goin’ on, and you barely even know this guy and . . . I ain’t ever gonna hear the end of this. _

“That is unfortunate. Where were you struck?”

If he didn’t know better, he could swear he saw a bit of concern in Okami’s eyes.

“Oh, in my side. This one, the left.”

He raises his arm slightly, motioning to his ribs. Okami hums, leaning in closer. He reaches out, then pauses, his hand hovering over his side. He glances up to catch Jesse’s eye. He swears his heart stops.

“May I?”

He stares for a moment, forgetting how to breathe. Gabe quirks an eyebrow, smirking.

“Jesse?”

“Huh? Oh- yeah, sorry. I’m a bit out of sorts.”

Okami nods, gingerly placing his palm against his side. He recoils almost immediately, his eyes widening as his hair stands on end. He pushes back into his chair, shaking his hand as though he had touched something unidentifiably wet. He turns slightly, and begins to talk with Ana in a language Jesse can’t seem to pin down.

_ Sounds old, but it ain’t Latin. Doesn’t really sound much like Japanese either. Maybe some kind of Egyptian? _

After a few quick exchanges, Jack interrupts them, confused.

“What’s going on?”

The two look to him, Okami pausing and formulating a response with the slightest frown.

“This- ” he motions to Jesse’s side- “is an ancient curse from a very specialized line of casters. It is incredibly unusual, and very difficult to break. There are only a handful alive who would know what it is, let alone how to break it.”

Jesse’s confidence falters, and Gabe scowls, despair creeping into his expression.

“Will you be able to take it off of him, then?”

Okami doesn’t hesitate for a second. He looks up to Gabe and nods once with confidence as he brushes the air as if to shoo away the doubt.

“Yes, certainly. You said one of his friends was struck as well?”

“Si, they’re much worse than Jesse is.”

Okami hums, then nods once decisively, turning back to him.

“Then we should work now and speak later. Are you ready, Jesse?”

“Fer what?”

His reaction earns him a snort, and Okami shakes his head.

“To have the curse removed.”

“Yeah, I reckon. You need me to do anythin’ in particular?”

He cracks his neck and rolls his sleeves up even further.

“Nothing beyond staying calm. This will be – alarming, and you will likely lose consciousness. It may make you very tired.”

“Got it.”

Okami smiles a bit as the air in the room begins to stir, and he leans towards him, hands curled into talons.

“Ah, and Jesse?”

“Y-yeah?”

“You may call me Hanzo.”

With that, the wind roars around them as Okami – Hanzo – smirks and floats from the seat of the chair. Blue lightning streaks down his arm, arcing towards him. The last thing he sees is the face of a great blue dragon as he slips under.

            ------- oOo -------

Jesse shoots back to consciousness, gasping as his eyes pop open. He keeps gasping as his vision comes back into focus, and he sees the concerned faces of Gabe and Jack, and then the calm, terse expression Okami always seems to wear. He gasps one more time before steadying his breathing and looking down to his side. He lifts his arm, rolling his shoulder experimentally and swiveling side to side.

_ Perfectly fine! _

Gabe and Jack breath out a synchronized sigh of relief at the motion, and Gabe falls back, leaning on his arms.

“Thank God.”

Jesse nods in agreement, then laughs as Rein reaches over the coffee table and scoops him up off the couch into a nearly bone-crushing hug.

“Thank goodness! I vas scared for a little vhile, everyone seemed so serious!”

He grins, patting Rein as best he can.

“I might not look too great if you keep squashin’ me, Rein!”

He gently releases Jesse, grinning apologetically.

“Ah, sorry mein freund! I am just glad to see you up and moving!” He turns to address Hanzo. “I’m afraid Shimada-san’s magic gave us all quite the fright, but it seems to have done the job vell!”

Ana chuckles and nods in agreement as she gives him a much more considerate hug.

“Yes, Hanzo’s magic can be rather . . .”

“Overwhelming?”

Hanzo supplies. Ana grins, giving him an ornery look.

“I was going to say flashy and overly dramatic.”

He snorts, smoothing back his hair and shooting her a loaded look.

“ _ I  _ am flashy? Should I tell them of the Paris incident?”

Ana gasps, jokingly covering her mouth before dropping into a stage whisper.

“I thought we agreed to never speak of Paris again.”

Hanzo simply snorts, waving flippantly as Rein presses them for more details.

The other three take the moment to breathe, relaxing a bit as they realize that he will be fine. Jesse notices that not only does he feel great, but he’s no longer caked with the blood and other leftovers of battle. Gabe is the first to speak again, standing and turning to Hanzo and Ana. She gives him a look that says they would be ‘chatting’ later.

_ You really struck a nerve with her, jefe. _

After a moment of consideration, he addresses Hanzo.

“I think I owe you an apology and a proper introduction, but I’m afraid both may have to wait.”

Okami simply nods once , his back straight and head high.

_ Proud and powerful. Refined. _

_ Gorgeous. _

_ Fuck, I’m in deep and I barely even know him from Adam. _

 “I agree. Where is Jesse’s friend?”

Gabe walks to the door as he answers, holding it open.

“They’re in the emergency wing of the med bay, I’ll show you there. The sooner we get there the better.”

Hanzo nods, negotiating the wheelchair back out of the room. They all shuffle out, then quickly break into a jog, pushing past security for the second time that day. Ana is the first to burst through the doors.

“Angela, I’ve brought assistance!”

She whips around to face them, rings spiraling. Her many eyes flit over the crowd, finally landing on Hanzo.

“So you can help?”

He nods, moving forward towards their gurney, seemingly unfazed by Mercy’s appearance.

“Yes, I can break and remove this style of curse.”

“That is the best news I’ve heard all day. We were just about to lose them.” She shoos some of the nurses away from the side of the gurney, making a space for him. “What can I do to help, Hanzo?”

Moira looks up from across the gurney, pulled out of her intense concentration.

“Who’s Hanzo and how can they help?”

Mercy motions to Hanzo as he approaches. He grimaces as he gets close enough to look them over.

“Hmm. The curse has taken full root in them.”

Gabe squeezes in beside him, anxiety twisting his face.

“Taken full root? Can you still break it?”

He nods curtly, loosening his tie.

“Certainly, but it will take them much longer to recover fully, and I cannot promise there will be no permanent damage.”

He glances around at the gathered crowd of concerned faces and medical staff before landing on Mercy and Moira.

“You may wish to step away. This will require some room, and may be alarming.”

He glances towards Rein as he states the last disclaimer. He grins sheepishly and Mercy nods with a bewildered smile. The gathered group shuffles towards the far edges of the room as Okami directs Moira to lower the gurney a bit. He pulls out his com, shooting Nick a quick text.

_ Fred’ll want ta be here as soon as he can. Hope it doesn’t take them that long ta wake up. _

Tucking away his com, he looks up as the wind begins to whip around the room, the crackle of electricity becoming palpable. In a second, Hanzo is floating level with the gurney, his hands curled like claws. He thrusts his tattooed wrist into the center of the curse and deep into their abdomen, and the lightning shoots down his arm and courses through their body. Jesse can’t help but flinch back at the sight, mouth dropping open as he shields his eyes from the crackling light.

He growls out a string of words in a language Jesse doesn’t recognize. The world seems to still for a moment as the taste of ozone lingers on his tongue.

In the next instant, two giant electric blue dragon shoot out of Hunter’s chest, winding around the room as they snap their jaws at the crowd. The strange goop covering Hunter begins to writhe and squirm. It pours out around Hanzo’s hand, roiling in a gooey mass to the floor. After a few more moments, he pulls his hand back out of Hunter’s perfectly intact chest,  and the winds beginning to dissipate.

For a fraction of a second, he floats there, hair fanned behind him, a beautiful glistening black veil, lit by the blue hot lightning in his eyes. The dragons swirl around them, coming to coil around him. A second later, and he is sitting back in the wheelchair, smoothing his hair and readjusting his sleeves. Jesse can’t help but stare.

As if he could feel it, Hanzo looks directly to him, catching his gaze. He holds it as the rest of the med team surges and hurries around him. He smirks a bit, breaking his gaze as Miora and Mercy begin to address him.

_ Holy shit. Gorgeous and fuckin’ powerful. Ain’t no way he’s just a summoner. Right? _

He glances up at Reinhardt, and catches an unusual glint to his usually cheery expression. If he didn’t know better, he’d say it was a dark tinge of regret. 

_ But what would Rein have ta regret? Still, he wouldn’t get riled by just a summoner, wonder if - _

His thoughts are cut short as Fred rushes in, quickly making his way to Hunter’s side. Jesse grins, shaking his head.

_ If you don’t make a move now, Fred, I’m gonna have ta make one for ya. _

He leans back against the wall, crossing his arms and watching as everyone swarms around Hunter and Hanzo. After a few minutes of chaos, Mercy pushes everyone but Fred and the med team out of the room. Jesse smiles and obliges, sauntering into the hallway to join the growing crowd. The twins are haranguing Gabe and Jack, while Rein is crushing Hanzo and Ana in one of his signature hugs. He chuckles, joining the group as they slowly drift down the hall. After a few minutes of excited chattering, they make it out of the med bay, spilling into the main bustling corridor of the base.

Ana looks back at them all for a moment, frowning as she turns to Gabe. He looks down, chagrined, and nods in agreement to something he can’t make out. Hanzo stays towards the back, looking a bit lost and overwhelmed. Jesse smiles, sauntering up beside him.

“Howdy!”

Hanzo looks up to him, and he swears he seems to relax.

“Hello. Are you still feeling well?”

“Sure am! Thank ya fer helpin’ me out by the way. I’m sure Hunter’ll share the sentiment!”

Hanzo shakes his head.

“There is no need for thanks. I am glad to have returned the favor.”

Jesse pushes his hat back, frowning.

“Return the favor?”

Hanzo nods seriously.

“Yes. You and this Hunter brought me back to health, did you not?”

Jesse cocks his head to the side, a bit stunned.

You mean the whole Deadlock thing? Shoot, you ain’t gotta worry about that none! That’s all in the line of duty, yeah? Don’t owe us a thing fer doin’ what’s decent.”

He chuckles a bit, looking up to him with a raised eyebrow.

“Decence, duty, honor.” He shrugs slightly. “Regardless, you have my thanks.”

Jesse grins, pulling his hat down as he blushes, grateful as Ana gets the group’s attention.

“All right, quiet down now!” They all turn to her, smiling. “I am just as happy as the rest of you, but right now, we need to take care of some things. Gabriel, Jack, we need to debrief. You two -” she jabs a finger at the twins – “are absolutely filthy. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind a bath. And Rein, dear, don’t you have a training session you need to run?”

Reinhardt glances down at his com and lets out a startled yelp that draws the attention of half the hallway. He looks to Ana as he starts frantically typing out a message.

“I don’t know how I did it vithout you, Ana.”

She chuckles and shakes her head, patting his arm.

“Neither do I, dear. So, why don’t we all take care of business and catch up over dinner?”

They all acknowledge and agree, the group breaking up and drifting in various directions as Rein charges down the hall. Jesse tilts his head back and laughs as a poor group of recruits screeches and dives to the side.  Ana smiles after Rein, clicking her tongue in less-than-heartfelt disapproval. After a few moments, she sidles up beside him with an ornery look.

_ Uh-oh. Why am I in trouble?! _

“Jesse, would you be a dear and stay with Hanzo while I debrief the commanders?”

_ Oh, thank God. Just tryin’ ta kill me indirect. _

He tips his hat and grins, nodding.

“Sure thing, Ana!”

“Good. I’ll see you both at dinner then.”

She turns on her heel, striding down the hall with Gabe and Jack trailing behind her. He shakes his head as she makes her way, the rest of the crowd shooting her nervous glances.

_ Glad I’m not gonna be in that meeting, at least. Gabe’s really got her riled up. Nah, I’ll just have ta try and keep myself from lookin’ like a hapless idiot. Try. Heh, yeah. Don’t get yer hopes up, Jesse. _

Hanzo watches her corral the commanders until they disappear around the corner before he speaks up.

“I assume she is not usually this hostile towards them?”

“Naw, not hardly. I mean, they get on her nerves sometimes, but I can’t remember the last time she was this mad at Gabe.”

“Gabe? As in Gabriel, yes?”

“Yeah, the one in the beanie, though I think ya already gathered. He’s my . . . Well, he’s a lotta things ta  _ me _ , but he’s the Blackwatch strike commander.”

Hanzo hums in contemplation before he speaks again.

“I see. So his actions were influenced by his care for you and your friend?”

“Yeah, I reckon so. He ain’t usually the type ta order folks around like that, especially not good folk like Ana.”

Hanzo nods, watching where they disappeared around the corner.

“In that case, I’m sure Ana will forgive him, even if she lords it over him.”

Jesse laughs in agreement, tilting his hat back. He decides to start walking as people in the hall glance their way. Hanzo follows along beside him without comment, glancing aimlessly at the people around them. If he hadn’t’ve interacted with the man before, he would have thought him perfectly comfortable, if well poised.

_ But he ain’t. He’s all kinds of tense, got a real case of nerves. Hasn’t really been in a crowd fer at least twelve years I’d reckon. Makes sense. Guess I’ll take him to the Blackwatch wing. Less starin’ there. Could stand ta drop by my room anywho. _

He nods to himself and starts walking with a bit more purpose. Okami simply follows suit, still glancing around as they go.

_ Calculatin’ and planin’ escape routes. Yeah, he’s seen some shit. _

“So how long have you and Ana known each other?”

Hanzo smiles slightly, his eyes flitting to meet his for a moment.

“We’ve known each other for a very long time. Well before she joined Overwatch.”

“Really? I’ve never met any of her friends from before. Well, at least none that’re  _ still  _ her friend. You two must really get along well.”

“We do have a great many common interests. How long have you known her?”

He grins and tips his hat to a passing friendly face as they wait outside of the elevator.

“I’ve known her since I’ve been here, pretty much, so about a decade. She’s kinda been a mentor for me, really helped me refine my aim”

Hanzo hums in reply, watching the elevator doors open, a bit more visibly tense.

“She would be an excellent teacher for that skill. Although, perhaps not the best.”

Jesse quirks an eyebrow, looking down to him in amusement as the doors close.

“Ana Amari, not the best tutor fer aim? Who could be better?”

Hanzo chuckles slightly uneasily as he rolls his shoulder.

“We have had many discussions on that very topic.” He frowns a bit, looking up to him. “Where are we going?”

“Figured I’d take ya down ta the part of the base I operate in, the Blackwatch wing. Folks tend ta be a bit less nosy down here.”

“That would certainly be preferable.”

“Mmm-hmm. Mind if we drop by my room? I’m afraid I haven’t got the chance ta change after the mission.”

“Ah, that cannot be pleasant. I do not mind.”

Jesse grins as the door swishes open, and he steps into the hallway, turning to wait for him.

Hanzo hesitates for a moment, cautiously peeking around the door with taught shoulders. Jesse’s spirits sink.

_ Fuck, he’s more than nervous, Jesse! What were you thinkin’, he got better after a few days? No, he just got a bit of security from a familiar face, and Ana ain’t here right now. He doesn’t even have a way ta call her if shit hits the fan, and you’re just skippin’ along like it’s all peachy. Gotta slow down, try ta ease him back inta  . . well, life. _

After a moment more of hesitation, he moves into the hallway. Jesse trots beside him, trying to smile as if he hadn’t noticed Hanzo’s trepidation. He continues to prattle as they walk through the nearly empty halls, the few Blackwatch operatives either ignoring them entirely, or waving to him.

“Glad you’ll be eatin’ with us tonight! I can’t wait fer ya ta try the dinner service in person. It’s even better than lunch!”

Hanzo quirks an eyebrow, the ghost of a smile flitting across his lips.

“I will have to be the judge of that. After all, you are fond of . . . interesting foods.”

He shoot him a grin, tilting his hat back.

“I hope ya ain’t talkin’ bout guacamole again. It’d be a shame ta have ta fight ya after ya saved my life.”

He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Be careful what you wish for, cowboy.”

Jesse grins ear to ear as they reach his door.

“Here we are, my lowly abode. Please don’t mind the mess, it’s been a hell of a month. Every time we think we got it sorted out, somethin’ else pops up.”

The door swishes open after a few mis-scans of his badge, and he trots through, clearing a path. He scoops a shirt and pants off his chair, grabbing his fancy boots from the bottom of his wardrobe.

“Feel free ta get in the fridge, make yerself comfortable. We might be here for a bit.”

Hanzo peers around the room, carefully negotiating the tiny space as Jesse slips into the bathroom, sliding the thin door shut behind him and splashing water on his face. He hears the door of his minifridge swinging open, and an approving hum followed by the sound of a bottle cap popping.

_ Not too uncomfortable, then. Good, don’t want ta give him any more bad impressions today. _

Digging through his pocket, he pulls out the ribbon he’d snagged earlier, and folds it neatly. He takes off his gear, throwing it into his hamper instead of the middle of floor, like he usually would. He pulls on the fresh clothing, breathing in the smell of detergent.

He smiles and shakes out his black cloak, and it shifts into his familiar red bandana. He ties it on, paying careful attention to how it lays. He stares at his reflection before tugging it down and unbuttoning his top button. Last minute, he grabs his fancy Blackwatch insignia belt buckle from the counter, clipping it on with a grin. He tucks the ribbon in his pocket as he winks at himself in the mirror.

_ There, all cleaned up! Ain’t too shabby if I say so myself! _

He slides the door back open to find Hanzo near his desk, lounging in his chair as he looks over the John Wayne autographed poster for  _ True Grit _ hanging on the wall. His face is framed by a single stray strand of hair that grazes over his temple and curls under his chin. The soft orange glow of his desk lamp lights up his cheekbones and lend his eyes a deep amber glow.

_ Course, I look downright awful next ta him. _

He can’t help but grin like an idiot.

“You inta old Westerns?”

“I cannot say as I have watched many, with the exception of  _ The Magnificent Seven _ .”

“Really? That one’s pretty good, bit of an odd choice for the genre, though.”

He chuckles, looking to Jesse.

“Is it? I decided to watch it purely because it is based on Akira Kurosawa’s  _ Seven Samurai _ .”

He tilts his hat back, stepping towards the poster.

“Huh, can’t say as I’ve heard of that one.”

“It does not surprise me. While it is an excellent movie, it is black and white, very long, and entirely in Japanese.”

“Yeah, I reckon that’d put it off my radar. But it’s good?”

Hanzo nods once with authority.

“Extremely. I’m certain you would enjoy it if you watch anime and old movies.”

He pauses, hesitant for a moment before he looks away, tilting his head and speaking in a softer tone. Another strand of his hair falls, resting gently against his cheekbone. He stares at something that isn’t there, maybe even a time that wasn’t now.

“Perhaps I could show it to you.”

_ Lord, don’t know if I could focus with you in the room. _

“Sounds good, especially if I could persuade ya to watch this one here.”

He motions to the poster, grinning. Hanzo looks back to it, taking another sip from his beer. He swallows, and doesn’t meet his eyes when he replies.

“I could be convinced.”

“Allrighty! We’ll have ta set a date once we get things all sorted out. I figure Gabe and Jack’ll want ta meet and talk some time tomorrow. That should help ya figure out time frames and all.”

Hanzo frowns slightly, nodding.

“Will you be present for the discussion?”

“Most likely, especially considerin’ the fact I’ve sorta been yer ‘case agent’, if ya will.”

“I see.”

He nods as he glances at his clock, then reaches to the fridge to pull out a drink for himself. Popping it open with his teeth, he sits on the edge of his bed and takes a swig.

“Wouldn’t worry much about it if I were you. They’re just gonna ask ya some of the types of questions I’ve been askin’, and they can’t  _ make _ you answer anything. They’ll probably go over quarters, medical tracks, and release times, maybe even protection programs. Just sorta bureaucratic business stuff.”

Hanzo seems to relax slightly, nodding and taking another swig. Jesse follows suit, idly shoving his hand in his pocket.

_ Oh, yeah! Nearly forgot about it. I really hope he likes this. _

“Uh, hey, I nearly forgot. Picked this up fer ya while I was gone.” He pulls the ribbon out of his pocket, holding it out to Hanzo. “I noticed ya like ta keep yer hair up, thought this might work better than a bandage.”

He stares for a moment, unmoving before he takes it, running it between his fingers. An odd look passes over him, one he can’t place.

_ Oh no. He don’t like it at all, does he? Shit. Wait, was this creepy? ‘Oh hi man whose real name I didn’t even know but am emotionally invested in, I noticed you didn’t have anything ta tie up your hair. I noticed that ‘cause I stare at yer hair a lot, it’s real purty, just like the rest of ya. I think yer awful nice too, so I got this off a dead body, hope ya like it!’ Fuckin’ hell, way ta go - _

“This is beautiful. Thank you.”

He grins ear to ear and pushes his hat back. He can feel the color rise to his cheeks as he looks to the side.

“Glad ya like it!”

_ I really need ta stop overthinkin’ shit. _

“Do you mind if I use your restroom?”

“Not at all! There’s fresh hand towels in the second drawer on the left if ya need one.”

Hanzo negotiates past him and into the tiny bathroom with a nod of affirmation, sliding the door shut after a bit of a struggle. Jesse tries to keep a straight face the whole time, sipping from his bottle. As soon as the door closes, he flops back on the bed, covering his face with his hat and grinning like an idiot.

_ Good move, Jesse. Shoot, ya even managed ta plan a movie night. That’s real good goin’. _

He smiles as he sinks back into the comforter on his bed, keeping his eyes closed.

_ Yeah, real good. A movie night, huh? Sound nice right about now. Could stand a nap. Suppose I could stay like this til’ he’s done. Yeah. Just til he’s out though. Been a long day. But just til he’s out  . . . _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi yall! I'd like to wish everybody a happy pride month, whether you're out, in, or otherwise! :D I'd also like to thank Krill once again for their incredibly helpful input on this fic! It really helps me out a ton as far as confidence to post and all goes, and they are great about catching the stuff that slips past me! Now that Jesse's immediate issues are mostly resolved, the next two chapters are going to be Hanzo's. (Crazy, I know!) I will hopefully be able to post them in a relatively timely manner, and I thank you all for your continued patience. I don't want to get in to it, but I'm having some medical problems that will probably delay this whole situation a bit more than usual. Basically, if there isn't a post for a while, don't think I've given up! :) Thanks again, and I hope you all enjoy~
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/3elNc72)  
> https://imgur.com/3elNc72


	17. New Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo encounters the clan's work and a new mystery, all brought to him by a certain cowboy.

They make their way to a part of the base that Hanzo doesn’t recognize. Instead of the bright blue carpeting and orange-gold accents against clinical white walls, the scheme is full of greys, creams, and a wine-deep shade of maroon.

_ A better quality, as well. Someone has a flair for the dramatic. _

He smirks slightly as Ana continues to radiate violent intent, and pretends to busy himself with appraising the bronze-appearance wall sconces. He silently thanks Reinhardt for accompanying them.

_ I am afraid I would not be as likely to keep her in check. _

As soon as he had arrived at the door, Ana had calmed from civilization-ending anger to a more reasonable level of frustration. They had made their way towards the office of Jesse’s boss, and the mountainous man had calmly, if not quietly, pointed out that this Gabriel was probably very stressed, and assured her he would regret and apologize for his tone.

Ana had agreed with the latter verbally, and likely, the former internally.

_ At least, she seems to have. Still, only a fool would claim to know Ana’s thoughts. _

Reinhardt reiterates the point as they seem to draw closer to their destination, judging by the sparcity and uniforms of passers-by.

“I’m sure he vouldn’t have acted that vay if they veren’t in trouble.”

Ana huffs, snapping back.

“It’s still no excuse for his behavior. I won’t tolerate it, Rein.”

He puts his hands up, leaning to the side as if to dodge her verbal assault.

“And I’m not saying it is! I’m just saying you should consider it before you snap his head off, mein sveet.”

Ana snorts, shaking her head.

“I’ll consider it.”

Rein nods, smiling encouragingly. They round a corner to another seemingly identical hallway, and Reinhardt strides over to a solid dark wood door with a single yellow sticky note placed prominently in its center. Hazno stares at the text for a moment, then re-reads it to make sure his English is not failing him.

“The conspiracy cave?”

Ana looks to him, confused, and then follows his gaze to the note. She chuckles after a moment.

“It would seem, yes.” She glances at him, and then Rein. “Not a word to Gabriel.”

Reinhardt barely stifles another eardrum bursting laugh, nodding as he pulls the door open. Ana gives him a fond smile as she paces into the room.

“Thank you, dear.”

Reinhardt smiles giddily, nodding his head as he holds the door steady for them both. Hanzo carefully makes his way into the tiny floorspace, struggling to make the tight turn needed to get through the door without knocking over the waste bin in the doorframe.

_ This infernal chair! I swear it was designed to be as irksome as possible. I will be more than glad to be rid of it, even if it means working with O’Deorain. _

He finally gets past the obstacles, and makes a quick scan of the office, his face held in a calculatedly unreadable pose. He pauses for a brief moment on the men Ana is attempting to kill through sight alone.

_ Two men, taller. One  . . . human? Blue coat, gold accents. Jack, of Overwatch, then. Not Jesse’s superior. Nor Ana’s, informally. Smells of fish. The other, Chupacabra and perhaps some form of Shinigami. In black and . . . A beanie. Gabriel, head of Blackwatch? The rude man, ‘superior’ of Jesse. _

He moves on, glancing over a bulletin board that would have fit well in the set of a murder mystery, and finally makes eye contact with Jesse as the other man groans in pain. His expression comes close to breaking at the sight of Jesse’s state.

_ Damn, I hope that is not all his blood! What have you done, cowboy? _

Instead of rushing to acquire the answer to the question, he restrains himself and simply offers a bow.

_ “First impressions, Hanzo. Good ones keep you alive.” _

_ “And stodgy, stuck up ones kill the whole vibe, amirite?” _

_ “Genji!” _

Jesse mimics the motion, rushing to catch his hat as he does so. He can’t help but smile a bit, disguising the crack in his armor by turning to look at the man in the beanie as he addresses Ana.

“Glad to see you finally decided to show up.”

Ana fixes him with a snarl veiled thinly by a smile.

“Trust me, I would not be here if leveler heads did not step in.”

She waves to him as she says it. The man blinks, then truly looks to him instead of at him for the first time since his entrance. His expression shifts nearly imperceptibly, the slightest hint of surprise and placation passing his eyes.

_ Trained then, but not very well. Perhaps simply personal experience. Nearly impossible to ascertain his age. Not impossible to reason with. _

“Is that so?”

Ana nods curtly as the blonde man leans over the desk, smiling and offering a hand to him as he speaks in a far too chipper tone.

“Then I figure we owe you a thank you! I’m Jack Morrsion, by the way. I take it you’re Mr. Okami?”

He quirks a single brow, tilting his head up to meet his gaze, his shoulders and back straight but relaxed.

_ Naïve charm will not win me, and you seem to be fond of diplomatic words. I’ve no need of that. I have no reason to respect you beyond rank, and that can be bought. You are not why I am here.  _

He gives him the smallest nod of a bow.

“Mmm. The Strike Commanders, yes. I am aware.”

The man seems a bit taken aback, pulling his hand away and awkwardly fumbling into something almost entirely unlike a bow. He dismisses the man by turning to face Jesse.

_ This man, at least, has earned some of my  . . . trust, I suppose.  _

He reflects on the man’s fashion choices for a moment.

_ Respect may be too strong a word. Although he is terribly charming . . . _

Ana poorly disguises a chuckle as he cautiously approaches the couch. He leans back after a moment, projecting the image of easy power as he settles back into Jesse’s familiar presence. It blooms in his chest, and he finds himself easing into actual relaxation.

“Jesse, how are you? I understand you and your friend have been hit by a spell?”

He stares at him for a moment before stuttering out a muddled reply.

“U- uh, yeah, we did. Get hit that is. By a curse. Well, and other stuff too, sure. But the curse’s the problem, ya see. Moi- uh, O’Deorain can’t seem ta break it and it’s eatin’ them up.”

He blinks, attempting to pull the important information out of his rambling.

_ He must truly be unwell for his thoughts to be so scattered. Perhaps shock? I wouldn’t think it in someone who likely has a great deal of exposure to the darker sides of life. A concussion, then? How hard was he hit? _

“That is unfortunate. Where were you struck?”

Jesse startles before he answers.

 “Oh, in my side. This one, the left.”

He raises his arm slightly, awkwardly pointing to his ribs. Hanzo hums, leaning forward to examine his side. He starts to reach out to touch it before pausing, remembering his manners and the judging eyes trained on his back.

“May I?”

Jesse just stares at him as if he were speaking in his native tongue.

_ He is not well at all! _

“Jesse?”

“Huh? Oh- yeah, sorry. I’m a bit out of sorts.”

He nods, somewhat hesitant as he cautiously reaches out to place his palm on his side to get a better understanding of the situation. He is expecting something relatively strong and unusual, as they had called on his unknown experience.

He is not expecting the clan.

The curse snaps against his skin, fighting with the dragons as they race down his arm to his defense, keeping one of the very few forms of magic on this planet that could kill him at bay. It takes all of his self-restraint not to hiss and turn right there, scrambling through too-small halls to get  _ out _ .

Instead, he yanks his hand away, shaking off the residual tendrils of the curse. He stares, no doubt wide eyed as he tries to process the spell.

_ One of their curses, yes, but  . . held at bay? And it has – _

He turns to Ana, slipping into their oldest shared tongue subconsciously.

“It- it is . . .”

She tilts her head in concern, brows furrowing.

“It is what, Hanzo?”

“This curse, it is from the clan, one derived from Genji and I.”

She frowns, scowling slightly.

“From the clan?! What business did they have with –

He cuts her short, shaking his head.

“It’s more than that. Someone, or thing, or – It is held at bay.”

She blinks, slow to answer.

“But only you and . . .”

“Yes, only I and Genji, but I have not -”

Jack breaks into their conversation, obviously confused and concerned.  

“What’s going on?”

They look at him in near unison, silent.

_ Even if I felt the need to explain all, we haven’t time. Jesse’s friend is surely in a horrible state with this curse. The basics, then, enough to move on. _

“This- ” he motions to Jesse’s side- “is an ancient curse from a very specialized line of casters. It is incredibly unusual, and very difficult to break. There are only a handful alive who would know what it is, let alone how to break it.”

Jesse seems to be a bit shocked by the statement, and the beanie man, who he is not entirely sure is Gabriel, has a creeping look of desperation. He croaks out his question grimly.

“Will you be able to take it off of him, then?”

He meets the man’s gaze and swats the thought away, tilting his head.

“Yes, certainly. You said one of his friends was struck as well?”

“Si, they’re much worse than Jesse is.”

He hums as he turns to Jesse.

_ The sooner I act, the better their chances. _

“Then we should work now and speak later. Are you ready, Jesse?”

“Fer what?”

He snorts at him despite himself.

_ For what? Hmm, I wonder. _

_  . . . _

_ Cute.   _

“To have the curse removed.”

The cowboy grins sheepishly, nodding.

“Yeah, I reckon. You need me to do anythin’ in particular?”

Hanzo cracks his neck and cautiously re-rolls his sleeves.

_ No need to stain my only decent shirt. _

“Nothing beyond staying calm. This will be – alarming, and you will likely lose consciousness. It may make you very tired.”

“Got it.”

He can’t help but smile at the man’s congenial colloquial answers, even under so much stress.

_ Ridiculous. _

“Ah, and Jesse?”

“Y-yeah?”

“You may call me Hanzo.”

He smirks as he calls on a greater range of his abilities than he’s had the chance to utilize in years. He nearly sighs in contentment as he lifts out of the restraint of the chair, the air crackling comfortingly. He relishes in the smell of ozone and the dance of electricity through his hair and across his tongue. He stares into Jesse’s eyes as he thrusts his arm into his infected side, the dragons shooting through his body.

He starts the incantation as Jesse almost instantaneously loses consciousness, the fragments of his soul snapping as the curse writhes out of Jesse’s body. He’s a bit surprised to find that Jesse’s abilities do nothing to stop him. As he finishes the spell, he lingers for a moment, enjoying the atmosphere and the weightlessness before he slowly slips back down.

He stares at Jesse, the peaceful expression of an empty mind making him look even younger. At the last moment, he puts in an extra flick of the wrist, pulling the grime of battle off of the man and gently guiding it into the wastebin.

The two commanders stare at him for a moment before the one in the beanie lurches forward, hopping over the desk and rushing to Jesse’s side. He grabs his wrist, and the pair spends a tense moment before he nods and rocks back to crouch on his heels in front of Jesse. He merely sits, waiting.

_ It should not be long. He could not have been under its full influence for more than two hours. Still, he’ll be tired. I wonder if he’ll act the same now that I am not their prisoner. What if I have misjudged him? Will he even have any interest in speaking with me? _

Jesse’s eyes shoot open as he gasps, and he glances between the three of them. He slowly evens out his breathing, and begins to test his arm and side. Jack and the beanie-man let out sighs of relief as they slouch. The man,  _ in the beanie, _ who supposedly runs the covert organization is the first to speak.

“Thank God.”

Jesse nods in agreement with the statement, and Hanzo moves to the side slightly as Reinhardt all but launches himself across the table. He scoops Jesse up into something between a hug and a crush.

“Thank goodness! I vas scared for a little vhile, everyone seemed so serious!”

Jesse cracks one of his genuine smiles as he pats the man. He feels his heart flutter and finds a smile trying to creep up on him.

“I might not look too great if you keep squashin’ me, Rein!”

The giant releases Jesse, still smiling.

“Ah, sorry mein friend! I am just glad to see you up and moving!” He turns to address Hanzo. “I’m afraid Shimada-san’s magic gave us all quite the fright, but it seems to have done the job vell!”

Ana nods in agreement, chuckling fondly as she gives him a far gentler hug.

 “Yes, Hanzo’s magic can be rather . . .”

He looks to Ana, fully aware of what’s coming, but obliges her with some amusement.

“Overwhelming?”

She grins, giving him her signature ornery look.

“I was going to say flashy and overly dramatic.”

He snorts, smoothing back his hair and shooting her a pointed look.

_ Says the woman who terrorized the entirety of Paris, twice, over bread! _

“ _ I  _ am flashy? Should I tell them of the Paris incident?”

She gasps, jokingly covering her mouth before dropping into a stage whisper.

“I thought we agreed to never speak of Paris again.”

He snorts, waving away her reply. Reinhardt immediately looks between the two of them.

“What happened in Paris?”

Ana laughs, shaking her head.

“Nothing of note, I swear it!”

Hanzo chuckles, smirking slightly.

“I seem to recall they still had a monument up about the terror of ‘the chat noir’ the last time I visited, and the fourteenth street bakers still greet me with trepidation. You’ve sullied my name there, Ana!”

Reinhardt whines as he looks between them.

“The chat noir? Bakers? Vhat happened?!”

Hanzo snorts, and grins a bit before answering in a relatively flat, even tone.

“I suppose you could say Ana’s  _ rise  _ to fame in the Paris bread scene didn’t quite _ pan  _ out the way she desired.”

Reinhardt stares at him for a moment in uncertainty before Ana groans and he snickers. Reinhardt quickly breaks out laughing, the conversation coming to a close as the man that may be Gabriel turns to them. Ana gives him a stern, reprimanding look.

_ He will be hearing from her later. As he should. _

He hesitates, no doubt piecing together his thoughts before he addresses him.

“I think I owe you an apology and a proper introduction, but I’m afraid both may have to wait.”

Hanzo nods, his posture returning to easy power.

“I agree. Where is Jesse’s friend?”

Gabe walks to the door as he answers, holding it open.

“They’re in the emergency wing of the med bay, I’ll show you there. The sooner we get there the better.”

            ------- oOo -------

He sighs as he falls back into the chair for the second time that day, the winds dying down as he cuts off the flow of power to the spell.

_ There, they are free of it. Interesting wards, though. Even in their state, they managed to fight me. They must be very good at their craft. I suppose that says much for Jesse’s skill, if this is his compatriot. _

He smooths his hair back into a semblance of tidiness, re-rolling his sleeves out of nervous energy as the medical staff envelops him and Jesse’s friend.

_ No doubt taking readings, if Angela and ‘Moi-‘ O’Deorain’s tendencies are any indication. _

He turns to glance through the crowd, the itch of eyes on the back of his head pulling him towards the back wall. He finds Jesse staring directly at him, his gaze intense and a bit in awe, if he wasn’t mistaken. He holds it, smirking at him.

_ You are not the only one here with tricks, cowboy. _

He glances away as Angela and O’Deorain approach him. Angela grins widely as she shoves herself between his chair and a nurse.

“Hanzo! I didn’t know what to expect when they brought you in here, but I’m honestly ecstatic! We were at the end of our rope with them!”

He smiles a bit, addressing her with a small bow.

“It is nice to see you again, Angela. Yes, I’m afraid they would not have lasted much longer. It’s unusual that they have lasted this long, in all truth. You should not undervalue your skills.”

_ I cannot bring to mind a better healer than a nephilim  . . . No wonder she inspires trust.  _

O’Deorain rolls her eyes and snorts.

“Trust me, she doesn’t. Still, that was a rather impressive display, Mr. Okami, or Hanzo was it?”

He frowns as he looks to her.

_ Nor can I think of many I would trust less with my health than an unknown fae. _

“Shimada-san, if you will.”

She stares at him before opening her mouth a bit and then closing it in consternation. Angela chuckles, shaking her head.

“Please don’t mind her, she hasn’t slept much in the past few days. Now, I’m afraid a proper thanks will have to wait. You’ve helped a great deal, but it looks like we’ll still need to do a bit of work on some internal damage.”

“Yes, I could not heal all of their wounds. Their wards are rather strong.”

Angela nods curtly, then turns in agitation as she’s nearly jostled into his lap.

“For goodness sakes, all non-necessary personnel, out! Shoo!”

Her many-eyed rings orbit in agitation, glinting in the harsh artificial light as she floats from person to person. A short man with an alarmingly gaunt build looks up as she makes the order with the expression of a kicked dog. O’Deorain shakes her head, smiling in a way that was slightly less unnerving.

_ If I did not know better, I would think it was empathetic. _

“Don’t mind her, Fred, you can stay.” She turns to him. “But you, Mr. Shimada, ought to leave unless you can provide further assistance.”

He tilts his head slightly, practiced poise returning.

“I believe it is within your capabilities now.”

_ And breaking their wards may result in more harm than good I could offer. But she does not need to know as much. _

He cautiously navigates back to the group of exiting onlookers, pulling up beside Ana. She begins to make a comment as they are both suddenly scooped up into Reinhardt’s grasp.

_ Please, no. _

The giant ex-crusader laughs as he crushes them for what feels like a few unbearable eternities before setting them back down. He huffs, smoothing down the front of his waistcoat and his internal alarm.

“Mein Gott, I have not vhitnessed zat type of display in ages! Maybe even never! I see now vhy Jesse vanted you to help! He has a good sense of these things, Ja?”

Ana chuckles and nods.

“Yes, he certainly does. Oh, and Rein dear, you really should be more careful about who you run around scooping up. It can be terribly impolite.”

“Who I – OH!” He turns to Hanzo and bows sheepishly, an unusual look in his eyes. “My apologies, Shimada-san! I vas overcome vhith emotion!”

He can’t help but chuckle a bit at the man’s violent sincerity.

_ That look . . . Guilt? He’s too young, is he not? _

“Accepted, but please, try to restrain yourself in the future. I do not care to be jostled around like a toy.”

 “Ah, Understood! It . . Vhell, I’d say it von’t happen again, but I try not to make promises I can’t keep! So I vill try not to!”

Ana snorts and shakes her head as she pats his forearm.

“I suppose that’s all we can ask of you.” She glances over the crowd and her eyes lands on the beanie-man and Jack, frowning.

“Now, I believe I need to have a few words with the commanders.”

She turns, striding towards the duo. He and Reinhardt exchange a glance before the giant man follows after her. He simply sits there, suddenly aware of all the Overwatch employees surrounding them in the corridor.

_ Some paper pushers, yes, but soldiers. And some hunters? _

He catches the eyes of a few of them lingering on him as they pass, and one of the door guards at the end of the hall blatantly analyzing him. The guard begins to talk into some kind of communicator, still glancing at him on and off.

_ Damn! I must still have some lingering energy from the spell. That would perhaps explain Reinhardt . . . Let’s see, there are one, two hall exits, guarded, one stairwell, mostly useless, two doors to – _

His analysis and blooming panic is punctuated by the sound of spurs approaching him. For a moment, he doesn’t even dare to breathe.

 “Howdy!”

He nearly collapses back into the chair.

_ Jesse. Just Jesse. _

He tries to pull himself back into artificial poise.

“Hello. Are you still feeling well?”

Jesse grins ear to ear, and completes the now-familiar gesture of tipping his hat.

_ Oddly endearing. _

“Sure am! Thank ya fer helpin’ me out by the way. I’m sure Hunter’ll share the sentiment!”

He shakes his head frowning.

“There is no need for thanks. I am glad to have returned the favor.”

Jesse pushes his hat back, frowning and a bit confused.

“Return the favor?”

He nods once.

_ Of course? You saved my life from that hellspawn of a woman and her demon-robot. I owe you no debt, now. _

“Yes. You and this Hunter brought me back to health, did you not?”

Jesse cocks his head like a confused dog, surprise flitting across his face.

“You mean the whole Deadlock thing? Shoot, you ain’t gotta worry about that none! That’s all in the line of duty, yeah? Don’t owe us a thing fer doin’ what’s decent.”

He chuckles in dismay, glancing up at the cowboy.

_ What an interesting ethical code. Especially for a skinwalker. I suppose he takes his cowboy aesthetic beyond his wardrobe and into lifestyle. _

_ “Told you so, ni-san” _

“Decence, duty, honor.” He shrugs slightly. “Regardless, you have my thanks.”

Jesse grins and pulls his hat down as Ana calls for their attention.

“All right, quiet down now!” She pauses, waiting till she has all their eyes. “I am just as happy as the rest of you, but right now, we need to take care of some things. Gabriel, Jack, we need to debrief. You two -” she motions to a set of nearly identical men in nice suits covered in the grime of battle - “are absolutely filthy. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind a bath. And Rein, dear, don’t you have a training session you need to run?”

Reinhardt glances down at his com and lets out an excessively loud yelp that draws the stares of the passers- by. He glances to Ana, entirely too smitten, as he starts frantically typing out a message on a small device.

“I don’t know how I did it vhithout you, Ana.”

She chuckles and shakes her head, patting his arm.

“Neither do I, dear. So, why don’t we all take care of business and catch up over dinner?”

They group agrees and begins to break apart, scattering into the busy hall. Reinhardt charges down the hall at an alarming pace, nearly crushing several people in the process. Ana merely smiles after him, clicking her tongue in less-than-heartfelt disapproval.

_ You have really fallen for this one, hm? As always, I can’t see the appeal of his personality, but I’m glad you are happy, Ana. Still, I will never understand why you choose the overly loud accidents waiting to happen. You’re always so terribly sad when they die so young. _

He stares at his old friend idly, and she turns to approach the cowboy with a mischievous grin.

 “Jesse, would you be a dear and stay with Hanzo while I debrief the commanders?

Jesse tips his hat and nods.

_ What? _

“Sure thing, Ana!”

“Good. I’ll see you both at dinner then.”

With that, she turns on her heel, striding down the hall with beanie-man and Jack trailing behind her, the crowd parting nervously before her.

_ A – Ana! Why are you leaving me with the cowboy?! I understand you wish to unleash your wrath on them, but  _ **_must_ ** _ I stay with him? _

He watches as his friend and lifeline practically drags the two men out of sight, and silently steels himself for whatever may come next.

_ After all, I may trust him some, but I have only known him for days! Days, Ana! I don’t even know what country I’m in! _

_ I need to ask her what country I’m in.  _

_ I’m getting far too old for this.  _

He once again thanks his training as he projects his best visage of calm.

“I assume she is not usually this hostile towards them?”

“Naw, not hardly. I mean, they get on her nerves sometimes, but I can’t remember the last time she was this mad at Gabe.”

“Gabe? As in Gabriel, yes?”

“Yeah, the one in the beanie, though I think ya already kinda gathered. He’s my . . . Well, he’s a lotta things ta  _ me _ , but he’s the Blackwatch strike commander.”

_ Ah, so he  _ **_is_ ** _ Gabriel, the man who made the rude phone call. What an  . . . interesting choice in fashion. I suppose there is some advantage in disguising your position with your garb. Still, you may want to wear something more practical for a battle. Hmm. How terribly hypocritical of me. _

“I see. So his actions were influenced by his care for you and your friend?”

“Yeah, I reckon so. He ain’t usually the type ta order folks around like that, especially not good folk like Ana.”

He nods, and keeps his gaze fixed on the guard who continues to glance at him.

“In that case, I’m sure Ana will forgive him, even if she lords it over him.”

Jesse laughs and tilts his hat back, likely aware of Ana’s grudge-keeping habits. He begins to walk down the hall, the crowd continuing to shoot looks towards the two of them. Hanzo stays close to his side,  silent and analytical. They pass the guard, and he can’t help but pull himself up a bit straighter, catching his gaze.

_ He knows I am something beyond human, certainly. _

Jesse may have picked up on the man as he nods without explanation and begins to walk a bit faster.

_ A nod? Was that a communication? Are they planning something? _

 “So how long have you and Ana known each other?”

Hanzo smiles slightly, hiding any hint that he may be aware of any kind of plan against him.

_ Which you may be attempting to distract me from with conversation. If there is one. Play along, Hanzo. At best, you are simply wrong, and the cowboy is not conspiring against you. At worst . . . _

“We’ve known each other for a very long time. Well before she joined Overwatch.”

“Really? I’ve never met any of her friends from before. Well, at least none that’re  _ still  _ her friend. You two must really get along well.”

_ So she has not introduced you to her long-standing friends? Hmm. _

“We do have a great many common interests. How long have you known her?”

Jesse grins and tips his hat to someone as they enter an elevator. His gut sinks as he tries to hide his dismay and creeping panic.

“I’ve known her since I’ve been here, pretty much, so about a decade. She’s kinda been a mentor for me, really helped me refine my aim.”

The elevator door opens, and he tenses just a bit, waiting for them to reveal a crowd of potential attackers.

_ Empty. More room for him to move, then. _

“She would be an excellent teacher for that skill. Although, perhaps not the best.”

He adds the last quip without much thought, internally smiling at their ongoing competition.

_ And she won’t be until she can bend the path of a bullet, no matter how far she can shoot. _

Jesse quirks an eyebrow, looking down to him in amusement as the doors close.

“Ana Amari, not the best tutor fer aim? Who could be better?”

He chuckles and rolls his draw shoulder, wondering how well he could fight in close quarters, out of practice with no legs and a bow he hasn’t summoned in over a decade.

“We have had many discussions on that very topic.” He frowns and glances up to Jesse, measuring out his inquiry and the other man’s strength. “Where are we going?”

Jesse smiles a bit amiably, motioning to the door of the elevator.

“Figured I’d take ya down ta the part of the base I operate in, the Blackwatch wing. Folks tend ta be a bit less nosy down here.”

“That would certainly be preferable.”

_ Less prying eyes to report an incident? _

“Mmm-hmm. Mind if we drop by my room? I’m afraid I haven’t got the chance ta change after the mission.”

“Ah, that cannot be pleasant. I do not mind.”

The cowboy grins, or perhaps smirks, as he steps out into the hall, waiting for him.

_ Should I move cautiously? It would give away my premonitions, but at least I would have a moment to prepare. _

Finally, he carefully peers around the door and emerges into the empty hall. Jesse’s face falters for a moment before he quickly corrects the expression back to one of his easy smiles. The move down the hallway in silence for a while, several people passing them with what he assumes is Blackwatch insignia on their clothing.

_ Really, a complete lack of uniform. Perhaps to better accommodate individual abilities? _

 Jesse begins to prattle again as they go deeper into the base.

“Glad you’ll be eatin’ with us tonight! I can’t wait fer ya ta try the dinner service in person. It’s even better than lunch!”

He can’t help but smile a bit at the assertion, raising an eyebrow to question his judgement.

“I will have to be the judge of that. After all, you are fond of . . . interesting foods.”

_ Such as guacamole. _

Jesse tilts his hat back and beams at him with a genuine grin.

“I hope ya ain’t talkin’ bout guacamole again. It’d be a shame ta have ta fight ya after ya saved my life.”

He chuckles, shaking his head.

“Be careful what you wish for, cowboy.”

_ I will not be defeated so easily. _

Jesse grins ear to ear as they come to an unmarked door, indistinguishable from every other door in the hallway if it had not been for the horseshoe nailed above it.

“Here we are, my lowly abode. Please don’t mind the mess, it’s been a hell of a month. Every time we think we got it sorted out, somethin’ else pops up.”

He scans his badge a few times, frowning as the lock beeps red a few times before the door finally opens with a swish.

_ Empty. _

_ Well, of people. _

The tensions runs off his shoulders as he realizes he is not, in fact, in any apparent danger. Jesse walks, or more, wades through the room. He picks up various objects and articles of clothing, placing them back in what he assumes are supposed to be their original places in the very cluttered room.

“Feel free ta get in the fridge, make yerself comfortable. We might be here for a bit.”

Jesse pulls open a door, revealing a bathroom which he quickly disappears into. He carefully negotiates himself into the tiny room, and decides to take him up on the offer of a drink. He pulls the fridge open to reveal an array of craft beer. He hums in excitement as he finds a familiar brand of ale. Pulling it out, he pops the cap open with a fang and relishes in the sound of rising bubbles.  

Taking in a tiny sip, he swishes it through his teeth before swallowing it, savoring the taste and the smooth texture. After a few more reverent draws, he takes in the room. Moving out of the way of the door, he finds himself beside Jesse’s bookshelf and desk. He scans it idly as he drinks, gathering more knowledge about the man from his collection of media.

_ Physical disks for movies? It is 2062, as he said, yes? A decent collection of books. In size at least. _

He blushes a bit as he notices a title he had read nearly a century ago, when novels of its genre had been scarce. It was an old semi-historical romance thriller, set on the Mississippi river in America circa 1870. It had starred an intrepid duo, a masked man of questionable justice, and a disgraced samurai, a long way from his homeland. They were turned from enemies, to friends, and then to lovers. The later half of the novel was  . . . .

_ Particularly descriptive. Is he . . . ? _

He feels his face warm up, and quickly tears his gaze away as he hears the door begin to slide open. Instead, he focuses fastidiously on the poster above the desk, in which he has essentially no interest.

The cowboy seems delighted in his seeming  interest, grinning ear to ear.

“You inta old Westerns?”

_ Not in the slightest. _

“I cannot say as I have watched many, with the exception of  _ The Magnificent Seven _ .”

“Really? That one’s pretty good, bit of an odd choice for the genre, though.”

He chuckles, glancing up at Jesse.

_ He seems more invested in this than his role as interrogator. Or food critic, for that matter. _

“Is it? I decided to watch it purely because it is based on Akira Kurosawa’s  _ Seven Samurai _ .”

Jesse steps a bit closer to him as he tilts his hat back, eyes sparkling with excitement. He feels his face get even hotter.

_ It is just the alcohol. That is all. _

He knows it isn’t true. It takes a great deal of alcohol to inebriate a dragon.

“Huh, can’t say as I’ve heard of that one.”

“It does not surprise me. While it is an excellent movie, it is black and white, very long, and entirely in Japanese.”

“Yeah, I reckon that’d put it off my radar. But it’s good?”

Hanzo nods briefly, eager to discuss one of his favourite directors with an interested party.

_ How long has it been since I had such an interesting casual conversation? More than twelve years, certainly. Perhaps more like twenty . . . _

“Extremely. I’m certain you would enjoy it if you watch anime and old movies.”

_ “Brother, you never do anything with me anymore! When was the last time you even left the house?!” _

_ “I will only say it once more, Genji! I do not have the time for such frivolous things!” _

_ “God, Hanzo, I wish you would wake up and get out more! We’ve got forever, what’s a day or two of fun gonna do? Nothing!” _

_ “We won’t have forever if the clan is exposed, Genji! They will be on our doorsteps within hours!” _

He stares back into that moment thirteen years ago as he speaks.

 “Perhaps I could show it to you.”

“Sounds good, especially if I could persuade ya to watch this one here.”

Jesse grins and points to the poster. Hanzo glances to it, taking a larger swig from the beer and desperately wishing it would hit. He doesn’t look up.

“I could be convinced.”

“Alrighty! We’ll have ta set a date once we get things all sorted out. I figure Gabe and Jack’ll want ta meet and talk some time tomorrow. That should help ya figure out time frames and all.”

His comment brings him back to the present a bit more, and he frowns.

_ I am not particularly prepared for negotiations. I don’t have the slightest knowledge of their systems and policies, or my rights for that matter. Perhaps it will not matter much with my knowledge of the clan, assuming they are deeply involved with them. They will need my aid if they ever hope to confront them.  _

“Will you be present for the discussion?”

“Most likely, especially considerin’ the fact I’ve sorta been yer ‘case agent’, if ya will.”

“I see.”

Jesse nods, checking the time and grabbing a beer out of his fridge. Hanzo watches out of the side of his eye as he pops the bottle open with his teeth and lets the cap fall on to his bed. His stomach flutters as he assiduously avoids eye contact.

“Wouldn’t worry much about it if I were you. They’re just gonna ask ya some of the types of questions I’ve been askin’, and they can’t  _ make _ you answer anythin’. They’ll probably go over quarters, medical tracks, and release times, maybe even protection programs. Just sorta bureaucratic business shit.”

He nods, relaxing as he takes another generous swig of alcohol. Jesse follows suit, leaning back on his bed and hooking his thumbs in his pockets. He blinks after a second, sticking his hand in his pocket.

“Uh, hey, I nearly forgot. Picked this up fer ya while I was gone.”

He pulls a beautiful length of gold silk with a seigaiha pattern woven into it, holding it out for him to take.

“I noticed ya like ta keep yer hair up, thought this might work better than a bandage.”

Hanzo blinks as he accepts it, pulling it over his hand as he stares at it in a calm, detached disbelief.

_ This weave, and the dye . . . It – Was mine. Is mine. A gift from Genji, on my birthday. He blessed it. It still feels like him . . . _

“This is beautiful. Thank you.”

Jesse grins a wide, genuine smile, looking away a bit.

“Glad ya like it!”

Hanzo smiles as he stares at it.

_ The universe does work strangely. I should put it on. _

“Do you mind if I use your restroom?”

“Not at all! There’s fresh hand towels in the second drawer on the left if ya need one.”

Hanzo carefully gets into the bathroom, awkwardly pulling the door shut behind him after turning the chair around.

_ The tracks need oiled, and it would seem his front door needs repaired as well. I wonder if this is where he usually stays? It seems very lived in, but not well looked-after. Hmm. Somewhat like him, I suppose.   _

He coaxes the chair closer to the mirror, pulling the strip of gauze out of his hair and tucking it in his pocket. Glancing around, he picks up a brush from the counter that looks practically unused. He smiles in amusement as he corrals his hair back in to order, carefully pulling half of it up and securing it in place, letting the shorter section at his temple hang to frame his face.

After a few more minutes of making minor adjustments to tie and shirt, and re-rolling and tucking his slacks, he once again slides the door open, only to find Jesse fast asleep and snoring on his bed, his hat over his face and his beer in hand. He stares for a few seconds, baffled, before shaking his head and smiling slightly.

_ And you feared an attack from this man! _

He moves over to the bed, gently removing the beer from his hand and placing it on the small bedside table with several empty bottles already occupying it. After staring around the room for a few more minutes in a sort of cathartic indecision, he decides it would be best to simply pass the time with one of the man’s books.

_ He likely needs the sleep, and I’m sure he won’t mind. _

            ------- oOo -------

_ He bounds down the hall as silently as he can, pulling the barest bit of his sword from his sheath. He slows as he reaches the corner, silently leaning towards the edge as he hears the shuffle of a conflict. Leaning forward, he’s suddenly grabbed and pulled around the corner. He pulls on his sword, only to have a hand stop him. _

_ Squinting, he makes out the face of his taller companion, his warm brown eyes reflecting the flickering oil light from the end of the hall. Wordlessly, he puts a finger up to his lips, quickly yanking him into a closet beside them. He closes the door, and they’re shoved together chest-to-chest. Clyde’s breath is hot on his neck, and his hair begins to stand on end as he’s flushed with warmth. He hisses into the dark.  _

_ “Clyde, what is the meaning of-”  _

_ He’s cut off by Clyde’s hand over his mouth, and he yanks his head back, indignant. Suddenly, shouting and heavy footfalls interrupt him. The commotion flows down the hall outside, the men running right past the door, mere feet away. His eyes go wide as he stares at the taller man, not so much as daring to breathe.  _

_ They hold the eye contact, agonizing seconds ticking by. After a few moments of quiet, Clyde leans further toward him, and he feels the undeniable flush rise to his cheeks. The other man places a rough hand on his shoulder, meeting skin where his collar has slipped. He pushes him back against the wall, and moves his hand from his mouth, tilting his face up by his chin as he - _

Hanzo looks up from the novel, startled back to the present by an electronic buzz. He glances around the room before his eyes land on a black device on Jesse’s bedside table. Making sure to put it back exactly as it was, he slips the novel on to the bookshelf before carefully approaching the table. He leans over the device, reading the small holoscreen projection.

_ Incoming: Ana _

At first, he reaches to pick the device up before realizing he has no idea how to operate it, especially when it does not respond to the motion commands he is familiar with. After a moment, he decides it may be best to simply wake Jesse anyways.

_ It  _ **_has_ ** _ been a few hours. _

Leaning back, he cautiously calls the man’s name.

“Jesse.”

No reply. He raises his voice to regular speaking levels.

“Jesse.”

The man snorts slightly, scratching his chest. Hanzo rolls his eyes, raising his voice further.

“JESSE!”

He continues to snore, and Hanzo shakes his head.

_ Ridiculous. What former outlaw could sleep so soundly, especially with a strange man in his room? _

He tilts his head, contemplating the next step before smirking.

_  He has earned this, then. _

He extends his arm, pointing two fingers at the sleeping cowboy. He breathes deeply, releasing a tiny ark of electricity from them. It shoots from his arm, zapping the other man in the chest. He yelps slightly at that, his hat tumbling to the bed as he sits up, rubbing his chest and looking around frantically, gun already drawn.

Hanzo simply smirks at him, eyebrow raised.

“I hope you enjoyed your rest, cowboy. Ana has been attempting to contact you.”

“I -Who – Aw, shit! Ana!?”

He watches in amusement as Jesse scrambles for the device, quickly flicking through the menus before putting it up to his ear. Ana’s voice emanates from the speaker a few seconds later.

“Jesse, about time! What have you and Hanzo been doing that was so important, hmm?”

Jesse blushes and Hanzo snorts in amusement, shaking his head.

“W-well, I was, uh, restin’! Yeah, just restin’. Ain’t that right Hanzo?”

He chuckles, quirking an eyebrow. He raises his voice enough to be heard on the other end of the line.

_ Although, I doubt if there are any physical lines involved anymore. _

“If resting is a synonym for sleeping all too soundly, then yes.”

A cacophony of unfamiliar laughter makes its way through the speaker as Jesse blushes. He whispers too loudly to be effective as he turns red.

“Yer not helpin!”

Hanzo merely smirks, giving him an amused look.

“I do not believe I intended to.”

Ana chuckles on the other end, and he can hear her amusement in her voice, instantly imagining it reaching her eyes.

“I see. Well, if you could be so bothered, we would like your presence at dinner. I’m sure Hanzo at least would enjoy the meal as he missed lunch.”

Jesse turns an even deeper shade of red as he glances towards him, chagrined.

“Yeah, alright. Ya’ll in the Blackwatch mess?”

“Of course! Your food is far better than anything we have upstairs! Well, with the exception of Amelie.”

“I hear ya! We’ll be there in ten, save us a seat!”

Another voice with a Northeastern U.S. accent crackles through.

“We aren’t promising anything Jess, so youse best hurry!”

With that and a round of laughter, the call ends. Jesse sighs, tucking the device in his pocket and standing.

“Well, looks like we’d best make our way to the mess. You ready?”

 “I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Yall, I hope you're doing well. As always, I'd like to thank Krill for their continued beta-ing and editing prowess! They expand my vernacular with every chapter they read, and I couldn't be happier to learn! I'd also generally like to thank everyone who sounds off in the comments. Yall make my day, like, really. Thank you for being patient, I've been in recovery for some medical stuff, and just haven't been up to writing. That being said, I was well enough to do a bit of dabbling into animation. I hope you enjoy the (not very good at all, lol) extras!
> 
> (I'm not sure, but you may actually have to click on the imgur link below them to see them move. The first one is a still illustration.)
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/R1J8PWH)  
> https://imgur.com/R1J8PWH
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/cNYPka6)  
> https://imgur.com/cNYPka6
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/KVwJH5e)  
> https://imgur.com/KVwJH5e


	18. Transparency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo takes a plunge

After a few minutes of travel down several halls decorated in the same grey and crimson colour scheme, which he still cannot tell apart, they arrive at a large set of swinging double doors with fixtures in the same brassy metal. He can hear the chatter of a great deal of people coming from inside, and can’t help but hesitate a bit.  

Jesse doesn’t seem to notice, smiling at him cheerily as he pushes the doors open in one sweeping motion, sidling through them as if into a saloon and not an institutional cafeteria. He reveals a crowd behind the wide doors, comprised almost entirely of people that look as though they lead rough lives.

_They do not look like the crowd in the hallway earlier. Far fewer humans, and quite the mix of energies._

_And far more dangerous_ , quips the voice in the back of his mind. He quells it quickly.

“Welcome ta the Blackwatch mess hall, finest dinin’ establishment in, well, at least a ten-mile radius, I reckon.”

Hanzo quirks an eyebrow as he rolls through the doors, making a jab at the cowboy to keep his nerves in check. He tries not to return the glances directed his way, consciously cloaking himself more heavily than usual.

“Really? I had no idea the dining would be so fine! I would have worn my best suit. Oh, wait. I have.”

Jesse laughs as he sidles up beside his chair, scanning the tables. He doesn’t need to for very long, as an excessively loud call rumbles over the casual chatter.

“JESSE, THERE YOU ARE! VE’VE BEEN VAITING FOOOOREEEVER FOR YOU!”

Jesse laughs, tipping his hat as he approaches the conglomeration of well-used tables at which Reinhardt sits.

“Sorry Rein, sometimes a man’s just gotta take a moment.”

One of the two twins from the med bay snorts, giving him a playfully skeptical glance.

“And by a moment, you mean several hours?”

Hanzo snorts quietly at the comment, looking over the unfamiliar man.

_Decidedly human, but a strange aura. Perhaps psychic to some extent?_

Jesse shrugs as he turns to address the table at large.

“Somethin’ like that. Ya’ll save us a seat?”

O’Deorain chuckles, smiling unnervingly at them and motioning to a seat and a space nearly directly across from herself and Ana.

“Yes, we’ve saved you the best seats in the house. Right next to the most graceful conversationalist on the entire base.”

The dwarf across from her huffs, shooting her a glare that barely makes it over the liberal mug of beer in front of him.

“Yes, and you’re such a charmer yourself, O’Deorain.”

Jesse chuckles and saunters away from him, chatting a bit more with the twins. He takes that as his cue to make his way to his seat, carefully navigating the busy room and trying not to look like he minds or notices the obviously evaluating stares from the surrounding crowd.

_No need to indicate my awareness. Better they underestimate me. They seem far more trained and aware than the personnel upstairs. I suppose this is Blackwatch? I do not see either of the commanders. Mmn. I do not blame them after a solo meeting with Ana._

As he’s trying to squeeze into the narrow space carved out for him, the dwarf grunts, then scoots his seat to the side before looking him up and down with a frank appraising glance.

“So you’re the Mr. Shimada I keep hearing so much about. Look taller than I thought you would.”

He finally settles at the table as he turns to the man, and decides not to begrudge his frankness after he quickly concludes that he is a truly a dwarf, and not a small human.

_A cultural bluntness, then. Perhaps a language barrier as well._

“Yes, I am he. And you are?”

The man scoffs, looking mock offended, before turning to Reinhardt, swinging his mug.

“You big oaf, I thought I told you to talk me up before I met your new friend!”

Reinhardt turns to them, grinning.

“Ah, but Torbjorn! It’s so hard to talk you up vhen you are so small!”

Torbjorn glowers at him, face going red with anger as he grumbles.

“Bold words for a man whose armor is due for maintenance tomorrow! It would be so sad if something just happened to break and delay the whole thing.”

 Reinhardt just laughs, shaking his head and waving his stein.

“Ah, my friend, ve both know you love machines too much for that! And besides, I don’t think you could do a bad job if you tried!”

At that, Torbjorn seems to preen a bit, returning his attention to Hanzo.

“Well, he does have a point there. Torbjorn Lindholm.”

Hanzo nods in a slight bow.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

He snorts violently, glancing over to O’Deorain

“Don’t know what you’ve been on about, he’s polite enough to say it’s nice to meet _me_ , of all people.”

O’Deorain simply huffs a bit, ignoring the comment and pointedly looking away to make conversation with the other twin beside her. Torbjorn chuckles, turning back to him.

“Ah, don’t worry over her. She’s just sour over the fact you’ve taken a liking to Angela. Those two are like oil and water, you know. She’ll warm back up to you plenty once we get started on your prosthetics, juuust wait.”

He blinks, giving him his full attention.

_Working on my prosthetics?_

“Are you the engineer of which Angela speaks?”

He laughs, nodding.

“The one and only. Well, for Angela’s prosthetics and machines at least. We’ve got at least one other notable on base, but he prefers to be called a scientist.”

“I see.”

_Little wonder she speaks so highly of him. A dwarf would be the best choice for such a position. Still, I’m surprised they found one willing to work in the public eye. And above ground, I presume, though I do have yet to see a window . . ._

Torbjorn nods, gulping down the remains of his beer and smashing the mug back on the table. He frowns, glancing in front of Hanzo before turning to Reinhardt again.

“Hey, muscles-for-brains! Shimada here hasn’t got any food yet, and more importantly, I’m out of beer!”

Reinhardt turns back to them, grinning ornerily.

“Ja? Vhat do you propose I do about that, shorty?”

Torbjorn huffs before tossing him his mug and a look.

“Make yourself useful, you big lug. I know you could use another round and seconds.”

Reinhardt laughs and nods, pushing up from the table and shaking what felt like the entire room in the process.

“You’ve got me there! I’ll go pick you up some food, Shimada-san.”

He begins to walk away as Torbjorn calls after him.

“And don’t forget my beer!”

He laughs again, waving the mug in a wide, carefree arc.

“Vouldn’t dream of it!”

He shakes his head, and Hanzo catches a hint of a fond smile.

_They seem to be rather close. I wonder if he is friends with Ana as well? Perhaps, but they seem too similar in many ways to be overly close. Hmm._

He glances across the table at her.

_It does not feel real. So much has happened, and then to meet her in such a way – It seems too strong to be a coincidence. And the clan happening to fight Jesse so shortly after they recovered me, the one and only person on this planet that could hope to remove that curse. It’s just too coincidental! And for Jesse’s curse to be stalled, something which only Genji or I could have done, unless the clan has altered the spell. For that matter, how did Jesse know to seek me? Perhaps it was simply intuition? Skinwalkers are akin to medicine men, so he may still retain some sort of spiritual guidance. Hmm . . . What if the clan –_

His thoughts are interrupted by the slightest touch on his shoulder. He startles immediately, whipping his head to glare at the offender. He comes face to face with a clearly concerned Jesse.

“Oh, uh, sorry. Was just tryin’ ta check in on ya. You feelin’ all right?”

He blinks, relaxing a bit and realizes that the air around him was charged, and his scalp itches where his horns try to break the surface. The people closest to him at the table are all staring, tense. Ana peers at him in concern, tilting her head in the way she has of doing when she’s feeling matronly.

Waving his hand, he tilts his head down, closing his eyes to recollect himself and slip into practiced nonchalance.

“It is nothing. I am merely tired from the curse breaking and other activities. I am not yet adjusted to the faster pace, and I am not entirely healed.”

Jesse gives him a slightly uncertain look, still smiling.

“Glad that’s all. I can understand bein’ tuckered.”

O’Deorain chuckles, eyes full of mischief.

“Mmm, yes. Says the man who delayed our dinner thanks to his poor sleep schedule.”

Jesse gapes at her before he answers, tone mockingly heated.

“Now hold up a minute! Ain’t you the one who passed out in trainin’ cause ya forgot ta sleep fer two weeks straight?”

Hanzo chuckles as the rest of the table joins in the battle of words, taking sides on the argument. Torbjorn guffaws beside him before turning his attention back to Hanzo.

“About your prosthetics.”

“Yes?”

“Angela sent me your measurements the other day, and I’ve got the model up and ready to work with. Now that we’ve canned the red tape and I can talk to you directly, I’m interested in hearing your thoughts on what’s going to be strapped to your body every day for the foreseeable future. She kept telling me that you’ve got some abilities she couldn’t figure out, and I can’t start until I know what needs making.”

He nods, slightly taken aback by how the engineer lit up when he began to talk about the prosthetics.

_Like a child in a bakery._

_“Oh, so you mean like you in a bakery?”_

_“I – That is not-“_

_“Hah! See, you can’t even deny it, brother!”_

“Mmm. I have not yet had the proper opportunity to discuss my . . . abilities that need to be taken into consideration, no.”

He nods with a bit of grim smile.

“Hard to trust when your caged and all that. Now that you’re in good hands, have you got anything for me to work with? I hear you’ve got some sort of summoning, or storm powers, or both?”

He can’t help but smile in slight amusement at the wild guesses they had been taking.

_All of them partially correct._

_Partially._

“Yes, that is . . . essentially correct, but it is not encompassing.”

The dwarf frowns and grabs for his beer, only to remember that Reinhardt took his mug. He grunts and looks back to him.

“Not encompassing? How very helpful. So there’s more I’ll have to consider than just you running around summoning lightning and ghost dragons?”

“Yes. I’m afraid I cannot describe it very well, however. It is something that needs to be shown. That will address a great deal of questions.”

Torbjorn raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

“So that’s how it is? I suppose it’s no use to keep asking, then. You seem to have done enough today anyways.”

He nods in agreement, and their conversation is suddenly ended by the arrival of Reinhardt, as well as several plates of food and three vessels of beer. He grins, setting a heaping plate down in front of Hanzo, as well as a large stein.

“Eat and drink, my friend! Tonight, ve thank you for your service!”

He stares at the steaming pile of brussels sprouts, potatoes and steak for a moment, his mouth beginning to water despite himself.

He picks up his fork, carefully cutting into the meat and pulling away a small piece. Slowly, he lets it almost melt in his mouth. He can’t help but close his eyes, blocking out the chatter and simply relishing the rich taste of a rare steak. After a few moments, he turns his attention back to his plate, fastidiously eating every single speck of food.

As the meal goes on, the tables around them slowly take their leave, and several members of their own table dismiss themselves as well with warm goodbyes. Soon, it is just himself, Ana, and Jesse. Jesse is the first to speak, tipping his hat up and leaning on his forearms.

“I take it Hanzo’s stayin’ up with you, Ana?”

She nods, sipping from her after-dinner tea.

“He is, in my guest room. I intend to keep him there until he is sick of me.”

He chuckles, shaking his head.

“You may find you’ll want rid of me before that occurs.”

She smiles fondly and they all sip at their drinks, lounging and enjoying the particular lively quiet of a large room at the end of a crowd. Once again, Jesse breaks the silence.

“Mighty glad ya got him out of the med bay. Ain’t good fer a body ta be cooped in there fer so long.”

Ana hums and nods in agreement.

“Certainly. Ah, I forgot to mention. You’ll both be attending a meeting with myself, Gabe, and Jack tomorrow, 10:00 sharp.”

Jesse nods, waving his hand lazily as he speaks.

“Gotchya. Figured they’d wanna do some housekeepin’ fer him tomorrow, ‘specailly considerin’ the situation and all.”

Ana nods, frowning a bit.

“Yes, there is the bureaucratic side of things to take care of, but I believe it may take a turn into ‘the situation and all’.”

She glances to him, and they share a look between them, leaving Jesse puzzled.

_The clan, yes. I am not looking forward to that discussion, but I would like answers. Hopefully my actions and friendship with Ana will be more compelling than my past affiliations. There is also my potential as an asset against the clan, I suppose._

He simply hums in agreement, taking another sip. Slowly, Ana pulls herself up from the table, stretching.

“Well, I suppose we will see you in the morning, then. You should really get to bed. Don’t you have early training with Gabriel?”

He nods and sighs, standing and adjusting his bandana.

“Yeah, ain’t really lookin’ forward ta that. Gonna be colder n’ a witch’s tit. Night Ana, Hanzo.”

His lips twitch into the smallest of smiles.

“Goodnight Jesse. I hope you sleep well.”

He’s surprised to find he accidentally slipped the slightest hint of a raw blessing into the genuine wish, and Jesse blinks, smiling as the cloud of drowsiness settles around him. He tips his hat, sauntering out slowly through the haze of the spell. Ana shoots him an ornery, knowing look. He huffs, turning away.

“Do not look at me like that.”

“Look at you how, Hanzo?”

He simply sighs, shaking his head and mumbling.

“I hope _I_ sleep well. It has been quite the eventful day, and I suspect tomorrow will be as well.”

             ------- oOo -------

_He huffs out a foggy breath into the frosty evening air, watching the lantern light play off it. He draws back again, focusing for a moment before he lets the arrow loose, watching it arc through the fog before it hits its target with a dull, satisfying thump. The impact shakes some freshly piled snow off the boughs of one of their sleeping cherry trees._

_He breathes in, nocking another arrow and glancing at the other targets. Light footsteps crunch the snow behind him, and another lantern’s light glitters off the fresh white blanket. Releasing the puff of mist from his lungs, he turns slightly to greet the sound_

_“Still training?”_

_He nods, glancing over his shoulder._

_“Mm. What’s bothering you?”_

_He pulls the bow back again, lining up his next target as his brother shakes himself off, settling into a crouch on the porch beside him, barely in his periphery._

_“Jesse’s injury. That curse was undoubtedly the clan’s work.”_

_“No doubt.”_

_He lets out another breath, then releases his arrow. It hits the same target. Thump. Another breath in. His brother leans forward, tucking his hands into his armpits, waiting._

_“The curse.”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“It had been stopped before I got to him. He knew to seek me.”_

_He pulls another arrow out, takes another breath in._

_“And you don’t know how it was or anything, because it wasn’t you.”_

_“Yes – and . . . “_

_He trails off, absentmindedly nocking the arrow, frowning._

_“Only you and me could stop it. Yup, as far we know. You’ve been out of it for a while. Gonna be hard to figure any of it out. Although you could ask him how he knew. ”_

_Nodding, he raises his bow and draws it._

_“I suppose I could. Regardless, I do not even know where to begin.”_

_He sights his target with less diligence than before._

_“I’m guessing it’s going to be easier than you think, Ni-san. If Jesse’s group is already involved with them somehow, they may welcome your experience.”_

_He frowns, re-adjusting his stance and aim._

_“I suppose.”_

_His brother snorts off to the side, and the lantern light flickers._

_“Okay. Good luck with that.  Oh, by the way?”_

_He pulls back further, subtly shifting._

_“Yes?”_

_“Nice work getting a date with the cowboy. Have fun on that movie night!”_

_He releases his arrow, simultaneously swinging to look at his brother only to find, pure, untouched snow. Glancing back in front of him, he finds his arrow thoroughly lodged into a support pillar nowhere near his intended target. He roars into the still air._

_“Damnit!”_

             ------- oOo -------

He wakes to sharp rapping at his door, and he stares at it, bleary eyed and foggy minded for a few seconds before the meaning sinks in.

“Hello?”

The door swings open a bit and Ana pokes her head through.

“Time for breakfast, I’m afraid I’m running behind. We’ve got half an hour until we need to be leaving.

He grunts, pushing himself up as she closes the door again. Shuffling out of bed and into his chair, he quickly runs through his morning routine. He’s pleasantly surprised to find that Ana had produced a fresh change of clothes. Smiling, he shakes his head.

_You are finally getting your wish to give me a new look, I suppose._

He flicks out the sleeveless mock-turtleneck, which he determines must be some variety of light, tight fitting armor, and a pair of form-fitting jeans. He can’t help but snort as he picks up the last article of clothing, a loose zip-up jacket with an enormous hood.

_Perhaps another day, Ana._

After he wrangles on the outfit, he opens the door only to be greeted by the mouth-watering smell of freshly baked bread. Making his way to the kitchenette, he quickly spots the steaming loaves on the counter beside a small plate with butter and raspberry jam. Ana trots up behind him, re-adjusting her beret.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t make them. They’re from a friend of mine. She’s an excellent baker.”

He chuckles, glancing towards her as he slices off a piece.

“Do not worry, I was not under the impression you made them.”

She snorts, grinning as she cuts her own piece and slathers it with a liberal serving of butter. He skips the savory and goes straight for the preserves, piling them on with a spoon. Ana looks over and shakes her head in dismay.

“Well, I suppose some things truly never change.”

He merely grunts in response, eyes fluttering shut as he sinks his teeth into the hot, fluffy bread and sour-sweet preserves.

“Mmmmmm.”

Ana chuckles around her mouthful, nodding as she turns to produce two steaming travel mugs of tea. He takes a quick sip, pleasantly surprised to find it is genmaicha. He closes his eyes, swishing the nutty liquid over his tongue with great pleasure.

_One of my favourites, and one of her least. Have you kept some here for me?_

“Eat quickly, we need to be on our way.”

He nods with a smile, loath to hastily finish such a simple, but delicious masterpiece. He wipes his fingers off on a piece of paper towel as they make their way into the hall. Ana paces slightly before him, guiding him through the still-foreign halls.

“We don’t have to go very far this morning. We’ll be meeting in Jack’s conference room.”

“Jack. The blonde one, head of Overwatch?” 

She chuckles grimly, a sort of jaded amusement passing over her face.

“Supposedly. But yes, he is the Strike Commander. Still, don’t be fooled by the position. He has a lot of forces beyond him to contend with.”

_Ah, yes. Legal leadership. I recall that era. Bothersome if your word is not law._

They fall into companionable silence as they push past the doors that seem to lead to the housing area and transition into what seems like a wing of very fancy offices with guards at nearly every door. He keeps his eyes ahead except for the occasional glance to Ana.

She waves to a few people they pass, tossing out a greeting every now and again to happy and somewhat intimidated faces. He suppresses a laugh at one particularly terrified blond man’s face when Ana gives him an especially chilling greeting. He scutters down the hall like a startled gerbil, tripping in his haste and attempt at a polite reply.

They round a corner and he glances up to find Jesse at the other end of the hall. He grins and tips his hat with a wave. Hanzo returns the greeting with a small bow, amused to note the man was wearing the same shirt that had been on his bed the day before. Jesse speeds up from an amble to a trot, calling to him as he gets within speaking range.

“Well, fancy meetin’ ya’ll here!”

Ana laughs and smiles, patting his back as he meets them.

“Jesse, good morning! How was training?”

He grins, pushing his hat away from his face and tugging his bandana down.

“Pretty well, all in all. Definitely ain’t as tough as yer sessions, no matter how hard Gabe tries.”

A voice responds from behind them.

“Care to repeat that, Cabron?”

_He is still wearing that beanie and a . . . My Chemical Romance shirt? Did Genji not listen to them in the early 2000’s?_

Jesse jokingly backpedals, putting his palms up.

“Hey, Jefe! Didn’t notice you were standin’ there! I was just tellin’ Ana about how great an’ structured yer trainin’ is, a real ass-whoopin’ program and all!”

He snorts, smirking at Jesse.

“It had better be, or I’ll have to give you an ass-whooping for lip.”

The three of them chuckle at that as they begin moving down the hall again. Gabriel talks nonchalantly as they make their way.

“Jack’s ready, by the way. Had to take a conference call with one of our big donors, they wanted to know about our peace agents. Apparently, there’s been a sharp rise in global organized crime lately, and they were worried about terrorist strikes.”

He says the last line in a sarcastically surprised tone. All them of them shake their heads and chuckle darkly.

“Gee, we’d’ve never guessed that, huh?”

He looks to Ana questioningly, and she waves to the two around her.

_I suppose I shall simply have to wait, then. Very well._

They finally arrive at a large, solid maple door, which Gabe knocks on loudly. A muffled response comes from the other side, tired and frustrated.

“Come in!”

Gabe swings the door open, holding it for the rest of them. Jack looks up from his paper-covered end of the surprisingly small oval table. His face lights up the moment he makes eye contact with Gabriel.

 “Oh! Everybody’s here already! What time is it anyways?”

He glances around as if to check a clock, then just shrugs and takes a long drink of water. They all begin to take seats around and on the table, in Gabriel’s case. He pulls in to an empty section, happy to find that the table had enough clearance for the armrests of the chair.

Jack begins to flip through several physical and digital folders as they situate themselves, and finally pulls out a small document with his photo on the front page, in which he was unconscious, accompanied by a portrait of himself that he had thought long lost to time.

_Oh dear. It would seem that one slipped. It would not be easy to find, regardless. They have been doing a great deal of digging, then. I wonder what they have garnered?_

Jack finally nods, looking up to him.

“Okie dokie. So, I think we all got off on a real bad foot yesterday.” He smiles apologetically. “I figure we should start out right today with some formal introductions. I’m Jack Morrison, Overwatch Strike Commander”

He stands up slightly, making an almost decent attempt at a bow before he sits back down. Hanzo inclines his head in response, and Gabriel sighs before speaking next.

“Really, the only one to get off on a bad foot was me. I made a real ass out of myself, and I apologize for that and the disrespect I showed towards you and Ana. I hope you’ll be able to move past it so we can get to know each other a bit better here. The name’s Gabriel Reyes, by the way, the Blackwatch Strike Commander. Officially, I don’t exist.”

“I accept your apology. It is easy to act in rash ways when pressed, and even easier to lash out with the tongue. As I’m sure you’ve come to realize, I do not officially exist as well.”

He chuckles a bit, and Gabriel blinks, then nods slowly. Jesse grins, tipping his hat as he speaks up.

“I reckon I might as well chime in, even though we’ve kinda done this already. Full name’s Jesse McCree, at yer service and all. I definitely exist, but officially in prison, I think.”

He quirks an eyebrow at the name and the commentary, snorting.

“Jesse McCree. It certainly suits you.” He looks back to the table at large and gives them all a slight bow. “I am Shimada Hanzo, formerly of many titles. It is nice to formally make all of your acquaintances.”

Jack smiles at that and clumsily returns the bow.

“Great! Now that we’ve got introductions and existence all sorted out, I think we all owe you a huge thank you.”

Gabe nods in agreement.

“Si, especially Jesse and myself. I’m incredibly grateful for what you did for us yesterday, especially after the treatment you’ve received from us. We don’t usually see that much compassion in this business.”

“You are welcome. I did not wish to see Jesse or his friend fall to that curse. It is particularly brutal.”

Gabe nods, frowning a bit at his last statement.

“It seemed like it. About that curse; you seemed to know a lot about it, right?”

He grimaces a bit, shifting into a stiffer, more practiced pose.

“Yes, I know a great deal about not only the specific curse, but its entire practice of origin. I am . . . something of an expert on the subject.”

_If you call one of the originators an expert, I suppose._

Gabe simply nods, processing his statement as Jesse speaks up.

“Well, in a way, that might be real good fer us, cause no one here could seem ta get any kinda read on it.”

Jack nods in agreement, joining in with a rapid-fire flow of thoughts.

“Definitely good for you, Jesse. Again, we really appreciate what you did for him and his teammate. So, uh, if you wouldn’t mind, we’d like to ask you a few questions about that spell, and I guess what you know about where it came from. And yourself in general. I know it’s a lot to ask, and of course, you don’t actually have to answer anything if you don’t want to.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking slightly.

_He does not seem overly versed in under the table negotiations. Or magic._

“I would certainly hope so. I also hope that you would see fit to receive a few questions of my own.”

Gabe grins, leaning back a bit as Jack blinks. Jesse smiles, leaning on the table with an air of easy nonchalance.

“I figure that’s plenty fair. Right Jefe?”

“Right you are, Jessito. Go on Jack.”

Jack looks between the two before looking down uneasily and flicking through a document on his holopad.

“Alrighty then. First things first, we’d like to get a birthdate, if we could.”

He nods, slightly amused by the almost entirely human custom.

“The fifth of September.”

Jack nods, jotting the date down.

“And the year?”

“2062, or so I’ve been told.”

He says it with a hint of mirth, watching in amusement as Jack begins to enter the number, then frowns, looking up to him.

“No, I mean the year you were born.”

He snorts, crossing his arms, and tilting his head slightly. He looks to Ana.

“Do you remember?”

She shakes her head, chuckling.

“No, though I believe you are a bit older than I am.”

Jack looks between the two of them before checking a calendar app on his holopad. He looks up with a smile after a few moments.

“Soooo, in the early 1920’s?”

Hanzo nearly chokes on air, then laughs whole-heartedly, looking over at Ana. She simply frowns and crosses her arms defensively. After a full ten seconds of laughing, which devolves into giggling, he wheezes out a reply.

“You told them you were born last century?!”

She huffs, indignant.

“Well, I don’t look a day over it, do I?”

He snorts again, giggling.

“You do not look a day over thirty, but that is hardly the point!”

She sighs, smacking his shoulder lightly, her unhappy façade cracking into one of amusement.

“After all I’ve done for you, I get no respect!”

He chuckles as Gabriel interjects, a bit confused.

“Ana, you weren’t born in the 1920’s?”

She chuckles and shrugs, giving him and Jack a slightly smug look.

“Who knows?”

Jack simply sighs and hits enter on his holopad, slightly defeated and confused. He also makes a note on his calendar.

“Alrighty then, year unknown. Ok, next up. Are you native to Japan?”

“Yes, I am.”

_Assuming that having a hand in creating the islands makes you a native, yes._

Jack grins, nodding as he enters the answer simplified answer.

“Good!”

Jesse looks at him, a bit questioning.

_Ah, he knows that is not entirely true. Interesting that he could catch it. Perhaps I will tell you the entire story someday, cowboy._

Jack lays down the holopad, and looks at him, smiling.

“That’s all the basics I need out of the way. I’m sure Mercy will have some more medical type things for you when you meet up with her, but our questions get a bit more serious from here.”

He nods, waving his hand.

“Ask away.”

Jack nods to Gabriel at that, looking relieved that the questioning was out of his hands. He takes the holopad and flicks further down the file, past several pages of information that contained a great deal of questions marks. He looks it over in slight amusement, pleased by the fact they had found so little.

“Okay Mr. Shimada. Do you have anything to do with the Shimada clan in the Hanamura district of Tokyo?”

He sighs, leaning back in his seat and tilting his head down as he looks at Gabe intently, slipping into the familiar role of the negotiator.

_I suppose you must explain this if you want to know how they are involved with them as well. Having that knowledge could help explain how Jesse’s curse was inhibited._

He glances to Ana and she gives him a slight nod. He nods in response, straightening up in the chair and choosing to speak more towards Jesse than Gabriel. While it helps to unsettle Gabriel from any feeling of power over him, he simply finds that the words come easier when addressing Jesse. He tries not to dwell on the implications of his ease.

“I was, for some time, the head of that clan, in a way. My relationship with the clan has always been . . . highly traditional, I suppose. Ge -” He pauses for a moment, his voice caught in his throat on the name. “My – My brother and I were essentially figureheads for many, many years. To shorten a long retelling, my brother and I became careless, and some within the clan sought to seize all power.”

He clenches his knee as he speaks, trying to keep his stance fairly loose, staring into Jesse’s warm brown eyes. They were almost calming if not for the slight animalistic glow. He manages to pry a hand away and gestures to his residual limbs.

“Suffice it to say, I am not on good terms with them.”

Gabe grunts, jotting a physical note on his paper file.

“Got it. You mentioned a brother?”

He shakes his head, composing himself as he forces his palms to lay softly on the table. He takes in a quick steadying breath, putting on his façade as he straightens his back and shoulders just a bit more.

“He is dead by their hands.”

The room falls silent at that, the only sound soft shuffling, as Jesse readjusts in his chair. He doesn’t break eye contact with Hanzo, frowning and concerned. He’s the first to break the silence.

“Well shit.”

Hanzo nods curtly, face as neutral as a classical bust.

“Yes. The clan is the source of that curse, as I’m certain you have ascertained. I am very interested in your organization’s involvement with the clan, for obvious reasons.”

They all nod, and Jack quickly jumps in to answer.

“Well, our ‘involvement’, as you put it, is pretty straightforward. We aren’t on good terms with them either. In fact, it turns out we’ve been planning to take them on since a few weeks after you were recovered.”

He feels the fog of grief lift from his shoulders as he begins to remember his goals.

_To take them on, Yes. Good. They will have need of me then, and I will be able to get closer to answers. Perhaps even revenge . . ._

He reigns back his emotions, but can’t help the edge that enters his tone.

“I see. That is . . . interesting news. I assume that after yesterday’s events, you are coming to realize that direct confrontation may be more challenging than you previously assumed?”

Gabe snorts, nodding.

“If by ‘more challenging’ you mean way more than we’re prepared to handle, you’re absolutely correct.” He sighs, scratching his head and looking to the ceiling for a moment.

“To be completely transparent, we just learned this morning that this Shimada clan is in the middle of our current major issue.”

Jesse nods, jumping into the conversation.

“Ya see, we’ve been hearin’ whispers about an auction of sentient folks fer a while, but couldn’t pin down who was hostin’, so ta speak. Turns out it’s this yakuza clan, and now we’re sorta at a loss, and there’s a lot of folk’s lives on the line.” He pauses for a moment, hesitant before he looks him in the eyes, nearly pleading. “Ta be real honest, we could really use yer help with this, if yer willin’.”

He looks at Jesse, moved by his honesty, passion, and faith, despite having already decided to join the fight. He nods once decisively, and Jesse’s face lights up with happiness and relief. He feels his heart skip a beat, and he breathes in deeply to keep the heat from rising to his cheeks.

_Keep a level head, Hanzo! This is no time to – to – Focus! You have a chance to gain answers! Perhaps if you bide your time, you may even avenge Genji!_

“I will certainly aid you. I cannot sit by idly as they ruin the lives of others. However, I do have three conditions if you accept my aid.”

All four of them look to him, Ana raising a quizzical eyebrow.

“I want full transparency into this confrontation and my situation within this organization, and the option of a clean cut when the affair is finished.”

Jack nods, taking the holopad and typing out his statement.

“Sure, that’s perfectly reasonable. I’d also like to put in a note that unless you pull something criminal, you won’t be placed back in holding. It’s best that we establish some trust, yeah?”

Hanzo nods, a bit surprised by the unprompted addition, but quite pleased.

_Although, I do not believe they have the capability to truly hold me. Still, escaping would be no simple task . . ._

After waiting a moment for Jack to finish typing, he continues.

“I will take the head of the man who killed my brother.”

Gabriel nods without blinking an eye as Jack frowns a bit, fingers hovering over the keypad.

“Done.”

Jack shakes his head and begins typing reluctantly as he lays out the final condition.

 “Once the clan is defeated, I wish to take back possession of Shimada castle to build a proper shrine to my brother.”

Jack frowns again and Ana jumps in this time.

“Don’t be so concerned, Jack. It will be easy enough to prove his right to ownership.”

“And if it’s not, we can always fake some papers,” Gabe adds in, chuckling. Jesse chuckles softly and nods in agreement as Jack shakes his head and types out the request, slightly dismayed. Gabe slips off the table, still facing him.

“Great! Just one thing left to ask, Mr. Shimada.” He leans forward, propping himself up on the table, arms straight and palms flat on the solid wood surface. “Just what the hell can you do anyways?”

             ------- oOo -------

It had taken little persuasion with Ana on his side, and he soon found himself being escorted to some sort of training facility. Ana had assured him that the room in question was large enough, and Gabe and Jack saw to it that his request for total privacy and lack of recording were met. Jesse pestered him with questions as they had made their way, while the two commanders had contacted Mercy and Torbjorn as Ana suggested.

That was how they found themselves in the cavernous room with Jack and Gabriel deactivating cameras on a third level walkway as Jesse continued to heckle him with questions.

“Well, If ya ain’t a shapeshifter, and ya ain’t an oni, and ya ain’t ‘just a summoner’, then what in tarnation are ya?”

He snorts, shaking his head in amusement.

_You are beginning to rival Genji in your persistence._

“I am myself. Nothing more or less.”

Jesse groans, pulling his hat off to scratch at his head.

“Now, what kinda answer is that supposed ta be?”

Ana chuckles, shaking her head as well.

“A blatantly vague one. Now hush Jesse, your questions will be answered soon.”

He huffs impatiently, pulling his hat back on.

“Fine, whatever.”

Hanzo smiles ever so slightly.

“I fear you will die of curiosity before you are informed.”

Jesse looks down at him as he breaks into a grin, and then a laugh. The doors across the room swing open as Mercy and Torbjorn enter the room, accompanied by O’Deorain. He blinks as he notices the last one, then turns to Ana, speaking in their oldest shared tongue.

“I was not informed she would be present.”

Ana frowns a bit as she answers.

“I was not either. I suppose it is a good idea, she will be heavily involved in creating and tuning your prosthetics.”

He grunts, glancing up at her.

“I am not entirely comfortable with the idea of her involvement.”

Ana shrugs, waving to the group and smiling.

“She is incredibly good at what she does, and Mercy keeps her in check. Most of the time. I would not worry too much.”

“Hmm. Regardless, at least you will finally be able to assess the extent of my injuries. I am afraid that neither Angela nor O’Deorain will be able to help most of them. They need older methods.”

Ana nods, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I was afraid of that. I will get you healed up as much as I can, as always.”

He nods, simply humming in reply as the trio finally reaches them. Angela smiles and waves, cheery.

“Good morning! Or is it almost afternoon?”

They all return the greeting, Jesse tipping his hat as he does so. Torbjorn simply waves at the three as Moira smiles unnervingly.

“I hear you’re finally ready to provide us with some more details about your prosthetic needs, Mr. Shimada! I must admit, I am a bit perplexed by the location you’ve requested.”

He nods somewhat curtly, made reticent by her presence and constant unnerving attitude.

“Yes, I will be doing as much, and the location is entirely warranted.”

She simply nods, obviously intrigued. Angela jumps in, smiling as she pulls out her holopad.

“Excellent! I’m excited to begin this process in earnest! Now, what have you been waiting to demonstrate?”

He frowns in reply, glancing at Ana.

“Have they shut off the recordings?”

She looks up to the two commanders, who give her a signal. As she nods, he eases himself out of the chair and onto the floor, taking up the closest position to seiza he can manage without lower legs. Ana takes the chair and begins trotting away from him without a word. Puzzled, Jesse and the rest of the group follow her, glancing back at him occasionally. He smiles in what he hopes is a nonchalant manner at Jesse, who breaks into a grin, giving him a thumbs up.

_How oddly reassuring. . . ._

 He glances around one last time, reaching out a bit to confirm there are no unwanted witnesses.

Finally, he closes his eyes, and begins to let his form unravel. He revels in the feeling of unfolding, His body snaking out from his constricted human form. He lets the masking shatter like a dropped mirror, envisioning the man he had seen in the mirror that morning cracking into a thousand pieces.

The air rushes around him, whistling through his sprouting scales and tugging at his tousled mane, lightning crackling over his whiskers and arcing from horn to horn in an electric arch. He shakes his head, pleased to find that they were growing back so quickly, no doubt thanks to his improved diet and unrestricted abilities. Letting the wind take him, he begins to float skywards, only to dig into the floor when he finds himself wavering from side to side like an unsteady skyscraper in a thunderstorm.

_Oh. No tail. No rudder. No balance, and no flight._

He pulls himself back down, opting to let his torso and mane float lazily with all his limbs on the ground instead of just the front two for an anchor. Finally, he opens his eyes, looking towards the small crowd. He meets Jesse’s wide eyes first, the man’s mouth hanging open as he holds his hat down. He tilts his head, snorting and smiling in amusement before sending out the thought to him.

**_“It is impolite to stare, cowboy.”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi yall! Sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up. Life's been insane lately, and I just really haven't been in the head space to write or deal with it. I hope you enjoy the chapter, and send Krill much thanks for their beta-reading and editing. 
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/MTfSiUL)  
> https://imgur.com/MTfSiUL


	19. Chapter 19

_ Cicada cries greet the start of the evening chill, punctuated every now and again with a few lonesome croaks. The porch wood squeaks and his spurs jangle as he leans against the railing, beer in hand.  He picks idly at the chipping paint, watching the horizon turn from dusty blue to gentle lavenders and brilliant oranges and pinks. _

_ The screen door creaks behind him, and the wood barely protests as the stranger settles on the railing, leaning against the banister. He pops the top of his can, glancing out towards the sunset. _

_ “Nice place. Always did want to visit a real ranch.” _

_ Jesse chuckles and nods idly, glancing over at the other man. _

_ “Yeah?” _

_ He nods, flicking his green hair away from his face. _

_ “Yep, it seemed pretty cool. Riding around on horses and shooting bad guys and all that.” _

_ Snorting, Jesse shakes his head, glancing out to the copse of trees across from the house. _

_ “Sorry ta break it to ya, but that ain’t really what tends ta happen on ranches. More hard work than anythin’ else, really.” _

_ The stranger sighs and slumps against the banister, taking another swig as he looks Jesse over. _

_ “So Hanzo got you all fixed up?” _

_ He nods, still staring towards the not-too-distant trees. The dry wind rustles through the grass, bringing whispers of the coming night. _

_ “Yeah, sure did. Thanks, by the way. Reckon you saved my buddy’s life with that lil’ tip.” _

_ He smiles, finishing off the can and shrugging. _

_ “Don’t worry about it. Anyways, Hanzo did the real work.” _

_ Jesse shrugs once, watching dark figures dart through the trees in the last rays of twilight. They are too big to be coyotes, their heads too large for their bodies. _

_ “Still.” He pauses, taking another sip. “How’d you know? You some kinda spirit guide?” _

_ The stranger holds up a hand, cutting him off with an amused smile. _

_ “And let me guess – What’s my name?” _

_ Jesse sighs and smiles, pushing his hat up with his free hand. _

_ “Can’t blame a man fer tryin’.” _

_ He laughs, the dry wind whipping his green hair, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. _

_ “Yep. Still not going to tell you, though. Although, I guess you could call me Sparrow.” _

_ Jesse hums and looks back to the trees, meeting another set of yellow eyes. The wind stills for a moment, and frogs fall silent as cicadas quiet. _

_ “You should get up. You’ve got company.” _

He jolts up, and it takes him longer than he’d like to remember where he is. His hand flies to his gun as he hears a quiet scratching at his door. As silently as he can manage, he slips out of bed, pacing to the door and plastering himself beside it. He takes a deep breath before shifting and falling into the shadows at the baseboard, his subconscious guiding him to the form of fox. He frowns internally as he continues to hear the sound of light scratching, punctuated occasionally by a soft electronic buzz.

_ Ana’s right, I gotta break this habit of shiftin’ inta the last thing I was. Works here, anyways. What are they up to? Tryin’ ta hack my door lock? _

He flicks his ears as he makes out the muffled sound of a small girl cursing in Spanish. Snorting, he shakes his head and shifts back, opening his door with an amused grin. Two sleepy purple eyes stare up at him in mild surprise.

“About time you woke up and let me in.”

Jesse chuckles, raising an eyebrow.

“That so?”

She nods, pushing past him and into the room, pillow nearly the size of her body in tow.

“Si, it is.”

He glances at the clock as he shuts the door.

Three in the mornin’. Lord, got trainin’ in three hours. Ugh.

“Ya ever thought ya might get better results some other way? Fer example, ya might knock?”

She rolls her eyes, glancing around his room and opening the minifridge, wrinkling up her nose at his array of beer and only slightly moldy leftovers from before her rescue mission. 

“I did, idiota, but you snore too loud to hear.”

He glances at her as he sits down on his bed, eyelids heavy.

Huh. Ain’t slept sound enough ta snore in a long time. Odd.

“So what brings ya here in the middle of witchin’ hour?”

She yawns, tugging at the blanket tied around her neck, and shrugs reluctantly. He stares at her, watching as she continues to glance around his room, avoiding eye contact. Finally, she answers, barely whispering.

“Nightmare.”

His heart pangs as he frowns and sits on his bed.

_ She’s about the same age I was when they got real bad. And she just got out of some real serious shit and onta a whole different continent in different serious shit. Poor kid. Seems to’ve latched on ta me though. Guess she could latch on ta worse. _

He sits silent, his mind wandering into abstract thoughts and emotions as she rubs at her eyes, examining his collection of western paraphernalia and knick-knacks. He realizes after a moment that she’s not rubbing away sleep, but stray tears and fear. An idea hits him, and he grins, talking lazily.

“Well, I reckon you’ll just have ta sleep here tonight, and I’ll catch all yer nightmares.”

She frowns, looking up at him in confusion.

“Catch all my nightmares?”

He shrugs, nodding nonchalantly.

“Sure. Don’t worry, I won’t let a single one slip.”

She squints at him, skeptical.

“What do you mean?”

He looks surprised, tilting his head in confusion.

“You mean ya didn’t know skinwalkers could catch dreams?” He scratches his chin, looking at her thoughtfully. “I mean, we do keep a lotta secrets close, but what with yer tech and where yer from, I figured you’d know.”

She stares at him, obviously trying to decide whether she believes him or not. Eventually, she shrugs and throws her pillow on the bed, climbing up after it.

“Ok, vaquero. Whatever you say.”

He smiles as he pulls a pillow off the bed and grabs his spare blanket, laying them down on the floor and making a nest. Sombra re-arranges his bed, curling up in the very middle. He hits the lights, the dim glow of his cactus alarm clock giving the room just enough light. Shifting, he turns to a dire wolf and trots to his makeshift bed. By the time he settles in, he can hear her snoring softly.

_ Night, kiddo. Wish I really could catch yer nightmares. _

            ------- oOo -------

Far too soon, the blare of his alarm pulls him out a deep, satisfyingly dreamless slumber. He yawns and goes to swat the alarm off only to smack his paw onto the ground. He blinks, shaking his head as he looks up to see Sombra groaning on his bed and glaring at the alarm clock. She inchworms towards it, smacking at all the buttons lazily.

“Callate, carajo . . .”

He huffs in amusement, standing up and shifting in the same motion. He trots over, gently turning the alarm off.

“Mornin’ Sombra.”

She groans and pulls he pillow over her head.

“Nooooooooo.”

He chuckles, stretching and grabbing some relatively clean clothes from the end of his bed and snatching his com as he heads to the bathroom.

“Tell me about it.”

He slides the door closed, stuffing the clothes into his workout bag and pulling on his training gear. He hears the thud of Sombra slipping out of the bed, and the sound of small feet shuffling around. Picking up his com, he’s surprised to find that no one seems to be worried about where the tiny hacker was. He shoots a quick message to Gabe.

“Sombra’s in my room, showed up around three. Said she was havin’ nightmares.”

He puts the comm aside and starts brushing his teeth when he hears creaking out in the room. He opens the bathroom door to find Sombra staring at his wardrobe in dismay. She turns towards him, mildly groggy.

“Do you really dress like a cowboy all the time?” She flips through his shirts. “Oh wait, there’s a t-shirt!”

He nearly chokes on his toothbrush as he lunges to stop her a moment too late. She holds it out, then cackles, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Save a horse, ride a cowboy?”

He gurgles, snatching it from her and closing the door, redder than a fire engine and unable to defend himself as she laughs. He retreats back to the bathroom, spitting out his mouthful of toothpaste as she giggles, following him.

Mouth empty, he glares at her.

“Aw, lay off it, would ya? What’re you doin’ pokin’ though my clothes anyways?”

She snorts, motioning at the oversized blackwatch t-shirt she was wearing.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I didn’t exactly pack for this.”

“Oh. Yeah, I reckon not, huh?”

His com buzzes on the counter, and he glances at it as sombra rifles through his bathroom drawers.

__

_ “Shit, no one even knew she was out of her room. Keep an eye on her, I’ll meet you at breakfast.” _

__

_ “Roger that” _

He tucks it into his pocket and grabs his comb as Sombra brushes her hair out. He frowns, thinking out loud.

“Well, I don’t think I’ve got anythin’ that’d even come close ta fittin’ you, and the twin’s won’t either. Jefe definitely doesn’t, and Hunter’s way too tall. How tall’re you?”

“127.”

“One-twenty-se- Oh yeah. So, uh, like what? Four-foot-somethin’? Hmm. Bet you could fit inta some of Fred’s stuff. He’s definitely got a crop-top or two you would fit. Don’t have any way to get inta his room, though.”

She laughs, tilting her head back.

“No way in? Please. I’m standing right next to you.”

He chuckles and shakes his head as shoots Fred a message.

_ “You got a minute?” _

 

“Mmm-hmm. I don’t know, now. Seems ta me that ya couldn’t manage ta get my door open last night, and on top of that, didn’t you just get busted?”

She huffs, crossing her arms as he puts on his hat, grinning ornerily. She follows him out into the hall, frowning.

“I was tired! And I was working to find you guys info anyways! You should be thanking me for coming here instead of spilling your info to save my own ass.”

He shrugs, smiling.

“Aw, now ya just had ta go and put it that way!”

She giggles as his com buzzes.

__

_ “Yeah, what’s up?” _

 

_ “I’ve got Sombra with me. Kid ain’t got any extra clothes. Thought ya might be able ta help.” _

_ “Come on over! I’m in the room already. Gabe made me get out of the med bay. Said I should eat and change, something about looking like a starving hobo.” _

__

_ “Probably a good idea. You’ll have ta fill me in on Hunter over breakfast.” _

__

They trot down the hall as Sombra chatters about how behind some of their tech systems are with words Jesse doesn’t really understand. He just nods as she talks, not bothering to ask too many questions after he had received a large eyeroll, and then laughter as she realized his questioning had been serious.

They round the corner to an entirely empty hall, and her tone suddenly shifts from the enthusiastic tech chatter of a child to the serious tone of an adult.

“So I did some digging, and I’ve found out some key information on this auction.”

He nearly trips over himself as he whips his head to look at her, more than a little surprised and confused at her drastic topic change.

“Y-yeah? How? And when did you-”

She laughs condescendingly, shaking her head.

“Do you want to know or not?”

He stares at her for a moment before shrugging and shutting his mouth. She just giggles, grinning slyly.

“The auction is being held by an old and well-respected yakuza group, the Shimada Clan, in Tokyo. So far, I haven’t seen anything about a change in date or location, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they do change it.”

He nods, rolling the name over in his head. He’s about to ask her another question as a low-clearance soldier trots around the corner, and Sombra resumes chattering about firewalls in her innocent excited tone. He just smiles and nods, waving at everyone they pass. She’s discussing the finer points of the Swiss government’s administrative login systems when they reach Fred’s door. Sombra’s words die on her tongue as she stares at it. She looks up at him, questioning.

“Why are we standing in front of a safe door?”

He grins wryly as he pushes the buzzer beside it, and they can barely make out the sound of shuffling within.

“Let’s just say that Fred likes ta keep folks out.”

_ And himself in. _

She just frowns at him, knitting her eyebrows as the door finally swings open to reveal a sleep deprived, but happy, Fred.

“Good morning!” He glances around his room as he steps back, smile faltering a bit. “It is morning, right?”

Jesse laughs, patting him on the back.

“Yeah, unfortunately. You gonna be at trainin’?”

Fred shrugs as he pushes his desk chair back into place and re-adjusts an ancient framed  _ Rocket to Russia _ album.

“No idea. Depends on what Gabe says.” He smiles, turning to Sombra.

“So I hear you could use a change of clothes, eh?”

She turns from looking around the punk and metal memorabilia-filled room, grinning ear to ear.

“Si. I get the feeling I’m going to like the selection.”

            ------- oOo -------

After quite a bit of picking and choosing, and a lot of belt-cinching, they finally pulled something together for Sombra to wear. Jesse’s stomach growled throughout the process of braiding her hair, which both she and Fred had insisted was necessary to complete ‘the look’. He had begrudgingly relented after they decided that a man who wore spurs as a fashion statement was not allowed to protest. Fred had jokingly pointed out that he was hungry too.

They had finally deemed Sombra’s outfit done after this, and had made their way to the mess hall. Jesse swings the door open and nearly drools at the smell of warm maple syrup. Gabe waves to them from the line as they trot over.

“Mornin’ Gabe!”

“Good morning, Jesse, Fred.” He frowns as he lands on Sombra. “I hear you’ve been busy.”

She chuckles and swishes her hand like she’s shooing flies.

“Si, si, but I don’t think you’re going to mind. I dug up some more information on the auction.”

He raises and eyebrow, mildly surprised.

“Is that right? You’ll have to fill me in while these boys are training. In the meantime, eat up. Lunch is going to be late.”

Jesse and Fred groan as they pile up their plates.

_ Wonder why? What’ve we got today that would push back- _

_ OH! _

_ Hanzo! That’s right! Damn, nearly forgot. Slept so good my head’s still in a fog. Strange mornin’ don’t help none either, I reckon. Can’t believe I forgot! Glad I brought a change of clothes, at least. Wonder how they’re gonna handle this. If the folks that cursed me are real involved in this whole thing, we’ll really need his help, or at least a recommendation fer other help. Hope Gabe’s first impression don’t affect his decision too much. _

_ I shoulda shaved this mornin’. _

He’s jolted out of his line of thought as he nearly rams into the end of their usual table. Moira glances up at him in surprise, clearly also pulled from thought. She laughs as they stare at each other, still mildly startled.

“Good morning, Jesse!”

He grins and laughs, setting his tray down beside her.

“Mornin’ Moira! What’s got ya all caught up thinkin’?”

Her grin morphs into a frustrated frown.

“Your and Hunter’s vitals and data from the mission. You two were obviously under the influence of the same curse, but around the second hour, your vitals simply stopped dropping. When you woke, your body seems to have received a small boost of endorphins and adrenaline. Your innate abilities also seem to have accelerated at that point. It’s very odd.” She pauses and takes a sip of tea, then turns to him. “When you woke, didn’t you know that Hanzo could help?”

He nods as the last night’s dream washes over him, vague clips of sound and the feeling of the colors. A feather that floats across a stormy desert highway, he tries to catch and hold it.

“Yeah, I did, now that ya mention it.” He tips his hat up and takes a swig of coffee, frowning and fidgeting in his seat. “It was real odd.”

She sets her mug down, catching his uneasiness.

“How so?”

He sighs, taking another gulp.

“Well, I was told in a dream. But the dream, it was . . . Huh. I ain’t really sure how ta phrase it. See, I’ve been told once ya turn Skinwalker, ya don’t get any kinda spiritual guidance anymore, but . . .”

He peters off, staring into the mug of coffee as fire and red wolves dance around the edges of his mind, taunting him as firelight glints off the barrel of the gun in his hand. Moira places an unusually gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Jesse.”

He blinks, then smiles sheepishly.

“Anywho. Got told it in a dream by a- well, I don’t remember much, just the feelin’ of it, really. The color green, thunder, heat, and the word ‘sparrow’.”

Seems like it oughta mean somethin’. And sparrow. Know I’ve heard that somewhere recent . . .

She nods, tapping out a note on her holopad.

“I see. Could the dream be a manifestation of your own intuition?”

He shakes his head as he cuts his pancakes.

“Naw, it was different than that. Too sharp.”

She nods again, and checks the time. Sighing, she stands and gathers her tray.

“Alright. Thank you for the clarification. With any luck, I’ll be able to get a better picture of what we’re dealing with. I’ll see you in training.”

He nods, swallowing his pancakes. They were much less satisfying with the remnants of the strange dreams rattling in his head.

“See ya soon.” That’s as far as I can go right now, back later in the evening!  I really like the right-align for Jesse’s texts! I thought it was an error at first, but by the third one I figured it out.  I took me until they got to the chow-hall to remember Hanzo’s blessing, too, and attribute Jesse’s good sleep to it! I can’t wait to get back to this . . .

            ------- oOo -------

Jesse can’t help but grin as the group trots down the hall towards one of Overwatch’s largest and oldest training rooms on base. Gabe and Jack had quickly caved to the request.

_ Not like they have much of a choice, really. We’re definitely gonna need his help now that we know these folks are wrapped up in this auction situation. Gonna be nice ta know what all he’s got up his sleeve. Reckon Jack and Gabe are just as curious as I am anyways. _

He jogs up beside Hanzo, smiling like a kid in a candy shop.

“So, yer gonna give us a little skill demo? Yer summonin’ magic ain’t all ya got?”

Hanzo looks up at him in mirth and barks out a short laugh.

“No, it is ‘not all’.”

Jesse cocks his head and tilts his hat back.

“That so? Then what all can ya do?”

Hanzo simply smirks, avoiding eye contact.

“A great deal.”

He pouts and huffs, trotting backwards to make proper eye contact, grinning.

“C’mon, now, that ain’t any kind of helpful! Are ya scared ta tell me or somethin’?”

Hanzo huffs at that, shooting him a short glare, but he falters slightly in his pace.

_ So ya are scared, then. Thought so. Time ta lighten the mood. _

He shifts his tone, grinning ear to ear as he teases.

“Aw, wait, I know! Yer just embarrassed! I bet yer somethin’ cute, like a were-rabbit!”

Ana breaks out laughing from in front of them, and Hanzo simply glares at him in half-jest. She holds the doors of the training area open for them as Hanzo replies.

“I most certainly am not!”

Jesse just grins as he hooks his thumbs in his belt loops and shrugs.

“Allright, so ya ain’t nothin’ cute? Must be the other end then, yer somethin’ real scary. Like an Oni! That’d explain the fangs and horns! You an oni, Hanzo?”

_ I’m jokin’ but I guess it could be true. Wouldn’t be too far-fetched, really, what with the storm magic and claws. Don’t think oni can break curses, though. Might be wrong. _

Hanzo grimaces and swats away the statement.

_ Woops. That’d be a big ol’ no. _

“No, thankfully, I am not an Oni.”

Jesse jokingly taps his chin, staring up at the ceiling.

“Aha! I’ve got it figured. Ya don’t wanna steal my thunder, but yer some kinda shapeshifter too! It’s allright, ya don’t gotta worry ‘bout me getting’ jealous. After all, skinwalker’s can do way more n’ just shapeshift if they take a mind -”

Hanzo smirks slightly.

“I can shift this form, as you have seen, but I am no shapeshifter.”

He frowns with great exaggeration, and waves his arm in exasperation as he falls back into place beside Hanzo.

“Well, If ya ain’t a shapeshifter, and ya ain’t an oni, and ya ain’t ‘just a summoner’, then what in tarnation are ya?”

Hanzo shakes his head and snorts.

 “I am myself. Nothing more or less.”

Jesse groans, pulling his hat off to scratch at his head.

“Now, what kinda answer is that supposed ta be?”

Ana shakes her head and chuckles at him, smiling.

“A blatantly vague one. Now hush Jesse, your questions will be answered soon.”

He huffs impatiently and pulls his hat back on, fussing.

“Fine, whatever.”

Hanzo smiles ever so slightly, glancing up at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I fear you will die of curiosity before you are informed.”

He looks down and laughs.

_ Ya ain’t wrong! Been wonderin’ since we scooped you outta the gorge. _

Their exchange is cut off by the sound of the old doors they had come through swinging open. Mercy, Moira and Torbjorn amble in, waving at them. Hanzo frowns, eyes flickering over the trio as he turns to Ana. They start talking in the language he can’t pin down.

_ Can’t even figure out the tone, really. Does remind me a bit of somethin’, just wish I could at least get a region. I should ask Gabe if he’s got any idea. He’s been around more’n I have. _

The three finally come up to them, and Angela smiles and waves.

“Good morning! Or is it almost afternoon?”

He grins, tipping his hat.

“Either way, Ange.”

Moira butts in, smiling as she looks to Hanzo. He almost sighs.

_ Ain’t seen her this excited since that consciousness transplant down in New Zealand. No wonder he’s been short with her. Don’t worry, Hanzo, she really does want ta help, in her own way. You’ll get used to her. _

_ Eventually. _

“I hear you’re finally ready to provide us with some more details about your prosthetic needs, Mr. Shimada! I must admit, I am a bit perplexed by the location you’ve requested.”

Hanzo’s eyes glint strangely as he nods once.

“Yes, I will be doing as much, and the location is entirely warranted.”

Moira nods in reply, obviously too excited and interested to care about his tone. Angela smiles and cuts between the two of them, holopad in hand.

“Excellent! I’m excited to begin this process in earnest! Now, what have you been waiting to demonstrate?”

Hanzo glances to Ana, frowning slightly. The strand of hair at his temple falls with the motion, and he smooths it back and flicks his head slightly. Jesse’s heart speeds up and he feels his ears start to turn red.

_ Lord have mercy, I’m in too deep. Glad my hat hides my ears, at least. _

“Have they shut off the recordings?”

Jack and Gabe give Ana a signal from their perch, and she nods at Hanzo. Carefully, he pulls himself out of the chair and onto the floor, his back straight and his shoulders wide, the ribbon in his hair falling gracefully over his collarbone. He can’t help but stare for a moment as Ana begins to walk away. A bit confused, he and the rest of the group follow after her.

_ Gotta take a step back, huh? Makes sense, I guess. Needed ta step back in the med bay yesterday. And back on the carrier, I was pretty far back from him then, too. Wonder if he’s got some kind of destruction magic? Pretty big radius. Maybe he is some kind of storm spirit. Would explain why he wants ta cut the tech. And why he’s never caught on film. Huh. _

The image of two electric dragons flash past him, teeth bared and jaws snapping. He shudders a bit, glancing back over his shoulder at Hanzo. He catches his eye and gives him the smallest smile. Jesse grins and gives him a thumbs up, turning back around and breaking into a trot to catch up with the rest of the group.

_ He must be some kinda storm spirit. That would explain how he would know Ana, I guess. They tend ta get around and not hold grudges.Would also explain the need for odd prosthetics. Storm spirit wouldn’t get much use out of standard metal legs. Yeah, that must be it. _

He smiles at the thought and Ana shoots him an amused look as she finally stops.

“What are you thinking, Jesse?”

He shrugs, coming to a stop beside and sticking his thumbs in his belt.

“Now Ana, ya know I don’t do much thinkin’. That’s y’all’s job.”

He motions to the group at large, and Moira chuckles.

“Ture enough, Jesse.”

He gasps, jokingly holding his heart.

“Hey now! Ya weren’t supposed ta agree with me!”

They all chuckle, but are quickly cut short by a change in the air. He looks back over to where Hanzo sat in the center of the room to find the man floating in the heart of a growing ball of dark, angry clouds roiling around him. The air begins to blow, and in less than a second turns from a steady breeze to an absolute howl. He grabs his hat almost too late as the doors begin to rattle and the balconies shake.

He stares in awe as the wind howls and lashes his face, cut only by the rumble of thunder as lightning strikes the center of storm, hitting Hanzo straight in the chest. It spirals out behind him. Or more, it spirals with him, he realizes, as Hanzo simply unravels with it.

_ Yup, I am right! Definitely a storm spirit! _

As if to mock him, a glittering spray of blue and gold unfolds within the ball of clouds and lightning, springing from nothing like confetti from a cannon. Finally, the winds and clouds begin to die down, revealing the massive form of a floating dragon. It wavers in the air for a moment before drifting to the floor, its body undulating in gentle waves as it lands. It settles and opens two large, glittering red eyes that stare directly at him. Its mouth twists as it raises its head, tilting it to look at him properly.

**_“It is impolite to stare, cowboy.”_ **

He blinks, and suddenly realizes his mouth is hanging open and he’s still holding on to his hat. Heat rises to his cheeks as he snaps his mouth shut, and he glances to the side. Miora and Mercy seem to be doing just as much staring, and he can see Gabe and Jack are as well. To his surprise, Ana is also staring, but he quickly realizes it’s not in awe as a chill goes down his spine.

_ Shit, she’s angry. Quiet angry. (you do mean quiet angry, not quite angry, right? just verifying) _

He glances back to the giant dragon in the middle of the training room as she trots over to it.

_ That’s Hanzo. _

The thought hits him like a train, and he shakes his head to clear the fog. Hanzo has lowered his head slightly and seems to be talking to Ana. The other three slowly begin to move away from him, going to join Ana. He’s pulled further out of his mental fog by the sound of Gabe’s and Jack’s boots clanging on the metal staircase behind him.

He glances back to them, and Gabe ambles up beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder. He can’t help but snort as he catches a glance of Jack.

_ Whiter’n a ghost. Didn’t know his eyes could get that wide, either. Come to think of it, ain’t seen Gabe look this shocked in a while either. _

Jack breaks their silence, barely whispering.

“That’s a dragon. Like, a live one.”

Gabe nods in agreement.

“Si. In all of my 300 years, this is the first one I’ve seen, much less met.”

Jesse can only nod and grimace.

_ Yeah, ain’t seen a live one either. Had that partial skeleton in Natural History Museum back in Houston. Never thought I’d see one livin’, considerin’ . . . _

He gets a chill down his spine and pushes the thought away as he looks back at Hanzo. Now that the fog of shock is lifting, he starts to notice more details.

_ Like the fact his whole damn tail’s missin’! Looks like he’s got saw marks on his  . . . antlers? Seems like he’s got a lot of scales gone. Shit, he’s had whole chunks taken out of him! _

He shakes his head, trying to put the image of Hanzo crumpled up under Ashe’s glowing gun barrel back to rest as he trots towards the group. He lifts his head slightly, mane curling elegantly around his antlers as he looks at Jesse. He grins and waves, asking, to make sure he isn’t dreaming again.

“Hanzo?”

The dragon bobs its head up and down, eyes glinting with amusement.

“Well, I was wrong. Ya definitely ain’t a were-rabbit!”

_ Or a basic storm spirit. Definitely not that. _

Hanzo blinks at him, then tosses his head as his laugh rings through . . .

_ Through my head? _

He blinks, faltering for a moment.

“A- are you laughin’ in my head?”

Hanzo pulls his head back down, tilting it to the side slightly as his mouth contorts into something that could almost be described as a smirk.

**“Yes, I suppose. I am afraid that my mouth was not made for most spoken languages.”**

He opens his mouth as if to demonstrate, a forked tongue flitting over fangs the diameter of his fist. Jesse stares, sure to be wide-eyed again.

“Yeah, I reckon not, huh? So, uh. How’s this talkin’ thing work, exactly?”

Hanzo crouches lower to the ground, snaking his neck out ‘til his head is just a few feet away from Jesse.

**“Think of it as a radio broadcast. You can hear me in your mind, but I cannot hear your mind. I can choose who can hear me, however.”**

“Oh. Alrighty.”

Gabe laughs as he joins them, smiling at Jesse.

“That’s a shame. I’d love to know what’s going through Jesse’s head sometimes.”

Jesse grins at him, tilting his hat back.

“And that’s why I line my hat with tin-foil!”

Gabe and Jack laugh as Torbjorn looks at him in slight dismay and Angela shakes her head. He pulls on the brim, backpedaling with mock offence.

“Hey now, you two, I was just kiddin’!”

Hanzo tosses his head to the side, snorting as his eyes twinkle.

**“Of course you are, cowboy.”**

Ana chuckles and shakes her head, her smile thinly veiling the dark rage welling in her eyes. Angela looks up from her holopad, smiling.

“Yes, because it’s much less embarrassing to wear a cowboy hat everyday instead of a tinfoil.” She winks at Jesse, cutting his protest by turning to Hanzo. “I can see now why you insisted on demonstrating this rather than trying to explain it!”

Moira nods, jumping in.

“Certainly. I must admit, this entirely changes the designs we were creating for your prosthetics. Would I be correct in assuming that you are hindered in this form as well?”

Hanzo looks to her and nods slowly, glancing back to Jesse for a moment. He smiles at him and nods encouragingly.

_ She’s here ta help. Mostly. _

**“Yes, I am. Greatly. Without my tail, I have no way to fly. I am completely unbalanced and have no way to . . .  to steer.”**

She nods, typing away on her holopad. Angela, Torbjorn and Moira continue to talk with him about the prosthetics, and he tunes the conversation out as it gets more technical. He trots over to join Ana, who has started to slowly walk around Hanzo. His face falls as he notices more and more barely-healed wounds.

_ He’s really been beat up pretty bad. No wonder he was out fer weeks. Don’t know if I’d be up an’ movin after twelve years of this kinda beatin’. Hope Ana can do somethin’ about it all. Can’t believe Ashe’d be this bad. . . Can I? _

He rubs his left shoulder absentmindedly as he matches her pace. She shakes her head, looking over at him with a scowl slashed across her face. They don’t say a word, but simply continue to walk along as Ana takes in every last injury as he continues to marvel at every scale and wispy hair. It’s all he can do to stop himself from reaching out to run a hand through it. Finally, they make their way back around and Ana trots over to help the Torbjorn and the doctors set up the scanning equipment to measure for Hanzo’s prosthetic. He wanders over to Gabe and Jack, frowning. Jack tilts his head, concerned.

He just sighs and waves his hand at Hanzo.

“Don’t look good at all. Ana’s real pissed.”

“Mmm. Even I could tell that. Glad you guys got him out alive.”

Gabe nods. Looking between them.

“I’ve been thinking the same thing. It’s good we kept him covert, too. Can you imagine the public reaction?”

Jack shakes his head, flinching at the thought.

“That would be an absolute nightmare.”

Jesse looks between them, a bit confused.

“How do ya mean?”

Jack just stares at him, confused for a minute as Gabe shakes his head.

“Sometimes I forget how young you are, Jessito. You were what, six or so when the Omnic war broke out?”

“Yeah, round that I figure.”

Gabe shakes his head, sighing.

“You know personally there’s still a fuck-ton of stigmatism towards anything that isn’t human, but it was ten times worse before the crisis. There were, and still are a lot of targeted groups out there. But dragons, well.”

He shrugs. Jack nods, picking up the thread.

“When the internet took off and everything that wasn’t human started coming to light, they got hit pretty darned hard. There was a complete public panic against almost everything, but dragons have always been pretty prevalent villains in media, or at the very least, incredibly dangerous. Even some non-human communities were actively anti-dragon, and other groups used various, uh, well -”

Gabe shakes his head, cutting in as Jack falters.

“There was a whole part of the population that killed them for sport, and a lot of cultures used various dragon parts for spells and medical cure-alls. As far as most people know, there are only three live dragons. The last one bar them was officially killed a few months before the war really started, but you still see bits and pieces on the black market sometimes. They’re incredibly valuable, especially the scales. There’s an old wives tale in a lot of east Asia that states a dragon’s scale can grant wishes, or raise the dead. Fresh bone marrow is supposed to make you immortal.”

Jesse stares between the two of them, less surprised than he really should be.

_ Hard ta be surprised when ya see that kinda shit every day, I guess. Hell, even harder when you’ve been on the recievin’ end. Still, I can’t say as anyone’s ever wanted ta chop me up for parts. _

He stares somewhat numbly at Hanzo’s severed tail, re-assessing his injuries. They all stand silently for a few minutes as the others run around taking measurements and talking about various aspects of the task at hand. Eventually, Gabe clears his throat and trots over towards Hanzo, Jesse and Jack following wordlessly.

“Mr. Shimada, I have to admit this was not what I was expecting when you said you had some abilities to demonstrate.”

Hanzo turns to face them, lowering his head a bit to make eye contact.

**“I would hope not. Suffice it to say, I do not wish to make this known to every passing person.”**

Jack nods more than strictly necessary, his eyes still sparkling with wonder.

“I can understand why! With that in mind, I’d like to thank you for trusting us with this information! I’ll be sure that it stays within this circle.”

Hanzo bobs his head, slowly lowering into a crouch.

**“Yes, do. I have more abilities than this,** ” he punctuates the word with a flick of his residual tail and a tilt of his head,  **“but I believe it would be best to explain them at a later time.”**

Ana frowns, jumping in.

“I agree. The sooner I get started fixing you up, the better. I’ll need a hand though.”

Mercy frowns a bit, glancing towards her.

“I would offer my assistance, but I’ve already scheduled an appointment with Winston and Lena.”

Moira shakes her head.

“And Oi will need to attend to Hunter. They’ve woken, but have a great deal of internal damage.”

Ana nods, looking at the group.

“Well, I don’t necessarily need anyone skilled. Jesse?”

He stage frowns, flicking his hat back.

“Hey now, I’ll have you know I’ve got plenty of skills!”

Gabe laughs, grinning.

“I have to agree with him! I’ve never met anyone else who can sound like an idiota in more than one language!”

Jack laughs, grinning.

“I forget you’ve never been to the UN.”

The group breaks into heartfelt, slightly jaded laughter at that, and they all begin to drift their separate ways. Jack and Gabe leave them groaning about paperwork, with Moira and Mercy not far behind. Torbjorn stays back for a few more minutes, chatting about preferred colors and materials before barking a short goodbye and heading for his workshop, no doubt. Ana sighs and lays a gentle hand on Hanzo’s arm. She looks at him with a soft fondness that Jesse’s only seen her use for her closest friends.

“You look awful.”

Hanzo chuckles and slowly coils up on the ground, his forepaws crossed like a resting cat.

**“Thank you, Ana. Ever honest.”**

She snorts and shakes her head as she looks him over again.

“I’m going to need to go get a few things. Are you all right with waiting here?”

Hanzo bobs his head, glancing towards Jesse.

**“Yes, thank you.”**

Jesse grins as Ana nods and starts walking towards the door.

“Good. You two behave!”

Jesse chuckles and tips his hat.

“I make no promises!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm finally back! I'm sorry it's been so long, but I have good reasons, I swear! XD I've gotten a lot of my medical issues finally sorted, including some surgery and being diagnosed with a manageable autoimmune disorder, but I'm finally starting to feel human again! I hope to be able the get back into this fic again, but the releases will probably be relatively sporadic! I'd like to really give Krill a huuuuge thank you for beta-ing this chapter while they were in the middle of moving! It means a lot, and so does your all's enjoyment of this fic! Thanks as always, y'all!
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/g53yrom)  
> https://imgur.com/g53yrom
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/lxB1QCm)  
> https://imgur.com/lxB1QCm


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